Don't Forget
by Giant Nickel
Summary: 3.Oct.10. The day Ed burned down his house. 18.July.17. The day Ed left Amestris for good. 7.May.22. The day Winry followed him.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of Hiromu Arakawa's original characters. _

**A/N:**_ Well here it is, my next major Fullmetal Alchemist/EdxWin project. Now, this story takes place five years after the movie Conqueror of Shamballa and follows the events of the anime. I've often felt that the EdxWin relationship in the anime was very subtle and subdued, but most definitely there. Because of this different direction in the relationship, Ed and Winry might seem a little out of character. I just want to warn my readers right now that many things have happened to Ed and Winry during their five years apart, but to tell you now would spoil the surprise and ruin the suspense. This work is also a little darker than I'm used to, but when the plot popped into my head I realized that it had to go into violent, angst-ridden territory. _

_Hope you enjoy!_

_P.S: Don't mind the prologue, it's supposed to be cryptic. _

* * *

**Prologue**

He was everything and he was nothing.

Time kept moving, yet it stood completely still.

He could see the whole world, right down to its first atom, yet he was as blind as a newborn pup, desperately seeking out with long fingers for something to grasp and hold…something to keep him anchored to this strange, unknown place.

The Gate.

It was light and dark, hot and cold, safe and dangerous.

The Gate was everything, just as he had been told. Just like they all believed.

One is all.

All is one.

Wise words from a very wise man.

Was he falling? Flying? Floating?

As the Gate consumed him his mind became flooded with images.

He saw his mother and father, kind and hardworking farmers, both taken violently by the outbreak of influenza that had swept across the countryside before the Great War.

He saw his older brother, executed in a dark alleyway by giants in black uniforms for the crime of kissing another man in a public street.

He saw his little sister, aged beyond her twenty years, her body broken from birthing seven children, her face always sad from her husband's indifference and her heart breaking from the world's cruelty.

He saw his first love, a chubby-cheeked blond with freckles and curls, kissing him behind the chicken coup and promising to love him forever.

He saw the day he joined the military, earning top honors and becoming the youngest captain in the Sturmabteilung.

He recalled the pride he had felt in that shinning moment when Oberster SA-Führer von Salomon gave him a special assignment that was cloaked in the utmost secrecy.

He saw the day he met _him_, that strange man with the intense gold eyes and metal limbs, bloody and dehydrated, speaking in mumbled incoherent babble about alchemists and other worlds and bombs.

He recalled how he felt looking at that pathetic prisoner, stripped and chained to a dirty stone wall, never allowed a doctor or clean water or fresh food, expected to reveal his secrets or die. In that moment, he saw a chance at redemption for not saving his brother. He saw a way of helping, a way of doing right by his life.

He saw the blood.

So much blood.

So many bodies.

All too young, all too innocent...all too terrible.

He remembered the light, and the hole that sliced the air. There was red and blue lightning, reacting to the blood and the sacrifice and the selfish desire of man. There were things, black things that took them, sucking them into the hole as if they never existed.

And he had to go, too.

He had to follow.

He had to help that man with the golden eyes.

So he jumped.

He erased himself.

There were doors, there was a voice, a being that was real and imagined, and then there was this great gapping in-between where he lived his whole life, and the past, and the future, both of his world and the strange alien one he was about to be born in to.

He felt it.

Like a lurching earthquake, he felt the space around his body reject him. He was being pushed out, expelled, regurgitated into a place that was cold and damp and dark.

He was in a ruined city.

His body ached and his back burned, his own blood seeping across his skin from the fresh stinging wounds that were infected and festering. His brown uniform stuck to him like a second skin, sweat dripping into his eyes and dampening his blond hair. He had lost his glasses, but he could make out the stones and the buildings and a long staircase that lead up into the darkness.

He could hear them.

The soldiers that came before him.

The ones that made the Gate on their side so that they could come here, to _his_ side.

To get one person.

The one person he was determined to get to first.

Standing on shaky legs, he forced himself to move, to beat his exhaustion, fight his injuries and focus his confused mind. As he touched on the first step of that strange stone staircase, he placed his left hand into his pocket and clutched tightly at the round object inside.

He was on a mission, two words repeating themselves like a mantra in his befuddled mind. They were his focus and his purpose and the reason he kept putting one foot in front of the other, just as he had been told, and ascended the staircase.

'_Resembool…Winry…_'

* * *

_Well, that's a strange beginning, isn't it?_

_I'll tell you right now, the narrator isn't Ed or Al, but I'm sure you've already guessed that._

_Not to worry, more will be explained in the next few chapters._

_Thanks for reading!_

_Reviews are welcomed and appreciated. No flames, please and thank you!_

**Giant Nickel**


	2. Message in a Pocket Watch

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the series's original characters._

**A/N:** _So, this is where things start to get interesting._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Message in a Pocket Watch**

_Amestris _

_7. May. 22_

_***_

What surprised Luther Austerlitz the most about Shamballa was how very similar, nearly identical, it was to his own world of Germany. There were houses and businesses, fresh food markets, sewers and hospitals. The streets were paved, the streetlights buzzed with electricity, people scurried from one venue to another, children laughed and church bells decried the hour over the innocuous clamor of the city.

It was the little differences, however, that struck Luther as he wandered through the city.

Fewer automobiles, coins instead of marks, women in pantsuits, steam powered streetcars, blue uniforms, and a coat of arms with a frightening dragon-like serpent in profile emblazoned on a shield.

He had heard of Shamballa's mystical military society, and indeed, most of the rumors had been true. And if he looked closely at a few select soldiers in the blue uniforms, Luther saw the silver pocket watch that singled out the alchemists, the great leaders of this alien world.

Finding his way out of the dark underworld city and into the light of this thriving, crowded metropolis that reminded him so much of Berlin, Luther momentarily forgot all about his mission as he looked up at the towering buildings. Their scale and grandeur were made even more spectacular by Luther's increasingly dizzying vision and he had to lean against a vendor's stand in order to regain his focus. He could feel bile rising in his throat, the wounds on his back seeming to burn his entire body, the blood surely staining though his clothes and dripping down the back of his legs.

He tightened his grip on the object in his pocket.

It gave him strength. Reminded him of his mission.

He could not fail.

Passersby offered to find him a doctor, but Luther's mind was set.

He pushed the good samaritans out of his way and trudged forward.

He had lost sight of the men in black long before he emerged from the underground city, but that did not matter, for Luther knew exactly where they would go.

The one they were looking for would not be found in this thriving metropolis.

She was somewhere else, in the mountains, days away and safe for just a little longer.

Following the signs and not bothering to be surprised that the language of Shamballa was nearly identical to his native tongue, Luther staggered and struggled towards the train station. It was a wondrous glass structure that seemed to hold the sunlight captive in its panes. Some were clear, others colored, and through the prisms that hung like crystal leaves along the archway, rainbows danced on the cobblestone streets, welcoming those that either came or went from this great city called Central. Luther pushed his way past a mother and her horde of whining children, passed under the main archway and spotted a young teenager in a green uniform holding up a paper sign that stated '_14:00 for Resembool Platform 6'_.

He ran like a desperate criminal with the Secret Police on his trail, but in reality, he was the hunter, though going after six able-bodied men in his deplorable state was like a mouse challenging a pack of lions. But Luther refused to give up.

He couldn't fail.

He had to get to Resembool and Winry before the men in black.

But the crowd wouldn't cooperate.

People and trolleys and booths and tinker stalls kept blocking his path to platform six. He wasn't far. He could see the yellow engine, hear the porter cry out the last call, and through the steam he saw six tall figures in black board the train.

"Somebody stop them!" Luther cried, one pale finger pointing to the Resembool train. His cries were ignored, however, and the crowd became thicker as he tried with every last once of strength left in his body to push through and catch that train before it left the station.

It chugged sluggishly at first, but with each wheel rotation and dark issue of coal smoke, the yellow train pulled away. Luther strained and tugged, and just as he could have reached out and grasped the railing jutting out from the end of the caboose, a large round man brushed against his back.

The pain that shot through his body was like hot white light, seeming to immobilize time and space. His brain jumped in his skull, his body convulsed as if it was rejecting his mind, his eyes watered, his ears rang, and he could feel every nerve in his body tingle.

Was this how automail connection felt like?

Sucking in his breath and forcing his body back under his command, Luther regained his posture and squinted as he spotted the Resembool train in the distance, soon to be lost as it turned away and began its journey.

'_I have failed._' Luther thought, his inner voice full of disgust and despair. '_I have failed Herr Elric. I should die here in this very spot._'

"Shit!" a feminine voice muttered close to Luther's ear.

He turned to his left and spotted a rather tall woman, slim, dressed in a strange maroon pantsuit with a rather industrial looking satchel hanging from a leather strap on her right shoulder. Her face was pretty, peach colored, a thin little mouth and a pert upturned nose, eyes that sparkled like a lake at twilight and so much blond hair it was like becoming lost in a fresh golden haystack.

"Did you miss the train, too?" she asked, turning to Luther, her little mouth pouting slightly.

"The one going to Resembool?" he found himself responding, the world around her becoming spotty until her lean frame was the only thing in his vision that remained focused.

"Yeah, and it's so far out of the way that there won't be another one for a few days at least. My customers are going to be pissed off."

"Your customers?" Luther repeated, his words echoing in his head.

He could feel his pulse sending waves of electric pain into his brain, and his knees were quaking and the spots in his vision were starting to clump together to create a blotchy nothingness that consumed everything but her face.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself."

Extending a strong looking hand, the woman smiled at him as warmly as a mother would to a child.

"I'm Winry. Winry Rockbell. I'm an automail mechanic."

And with those words ringing in his mind, Luther's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted at Winry's feet, still clutching the precious object in his pocket.

* * *

Consciousness was a terribly painful process.

As his eyelids fluttered and thoughts began to piece together in his waking mind, Luther could feel the heaviness in his body pull him into the firm mattress beneath him. His bones were made of lead, his blood acid and his world was sideways. It was then that he realized that he was propped on his side, his back naked and bandaged while the rest of him was barely covered in a thin paper dress that did nothing for his modesty.

"Good, you're awake."

Startled by the strange voice, Luther craned his neck and squinted. Without his glasses, most things not directly in front of his nose were hazy figures, but when he spotted the blond hair he knew who it was.

She was dressed in a plum skirt this time, with a white blouse that ruffled at the neck. Her blond hair, down her back when he first saw her at the train station, was pinned up in a green clip. There was a red coat draped over the arm of the chair she was lounging in and her long laced up black boots clapped on the floor as she stood up and walked to his bedside.

"Would you like some water, sir? I'm sorry, but I don't know your name. When you fainted at the train station I called for an ambulance but since you had no identification or papers, they've been calling you John Doe."

"Wi-Wi…w-w-w…"

"Right! The water."

Quickly going to the glass jug on his bedside table, the young woman filled up a small cup, inserted a straw and offered the water to Luther.

While he hadn't been asking for water, Luther's throat burned nearly as badly as his back and he drained the cup of water with only a few deep gulps.

"You're Winry. Winry from Resembool. An automail mechanic" he said.

"That's right." the woman said, a dazzling smile gracing her pretty face. She filled the cup a second time and offered it to Luther. "I wasn't sure you'd remember. What's your name?"

"Luther Austerlitz." he wheezed. "Listen, we have to leave."

"Oh, you're not going anywhere." Winry scolded. "Do you have any idea the state you're in? Massive blood loss, sever dehydration, malnutrition, and those wounds on your back…well, they were festering and badly infected. The doctors even said something about blood poisoning. What happened to you, Mr. Austerlitz?"

"No time for that." he argued as he struggled to sit up.

A gentle push on his shoulder was all it took for Luther to collapse onto the hospital bed.

"Be careful!" Winry cried. "You don't need to upset your back anymore than it already is. The doctors have done what they can but if you don't rest you'll never get well…What? What is it?"

Luther wasn't aware of it, but he was looking up at Winry with wide, unbelieving brown eyes, his eyebrows having shot up towards his hairline and his mouth hanging open in silent surprise.

"It's just like he said. No concept. Absolutely no concept at all."

"Who said what?" Winry asked, completely dumbfounded at Luther's words. Scrutinizing him, she leaned forward and pressed the back of her hand to his brow. "You're burning up really badly. I'm going to get a nurse."

It was the sound of her clanking boots retreating from his bedside that inspired Luther to react. Disturbing his wounded back, Luther threw his upper body over the edge of his bed and grabbed for Winry, successful latching on to one of her arms. With all of the strength he could summon, Luther pulled her back just a little and held on tightly.

He had to tell her.

She needed to know.

"We have to leave."

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Austerlitz." Winry stated.

"We must leave!" he insisted, squeezing her tighter, knowing he must be hurting her a little.

He would apologize later.

"They're coming for you. They don't know I followed and I found you first and so I can save you!"

"Who's coming for me?" Winry asked, an unpleasant churning in her belly causing her to struggle in the sick man's grasp.

"The men in black uniforms. The ones with the SS on their arms. When they find you they'll take you back and they'll do things…they'll make you do things…they'll make him come to them."

"Sir! Mr. Austerlitz, please let me go so I can get a nurse." Winry reasoned.

"They'll take you away. You have to come to me. I'll take you to him and you'll be safe…I'll…I'll take you to him…"

Luther's brief blast of strength and adrenaline wavered and Winry was able to pull herself away from him. He almost fell out of his bed, sweat pouring down his face and neck as he breathed hard and struggled against his weak body. He felt Winry lift him back into bed and fluff his pillow so that he could recline comfortably. And then he heard her walk away before succumbing to the blissful nothingness of unconsciousness.

* * *

Winry stared at the man asleep in the hospital bed, his breathing labored but even, an IV steadily dripping at his bedside, and fresh bandages covering those awful wounds on his back.

When she had come with Luther Austerlitz to the Central hospital, she was shocked at the extent of his injuries and wanted to know if he would survive his terrible wounds. Although she wasn't family and therefore not permitted personal information, Winry knew several nurses on staff and was able to coerce one into telling her what had happened to the strange man.

_"It's the most remarkable thing, Winry. His back has been lashed raw. It's as if he's been whipped repeatedly over several days, starved and beaten. It…well…it looks as if he's been tortured. Do you suppose he's a POW?"_

Winry wasn't sure how the man could be a surviving prisoner of war when the last war had ended nearly three years ago. All of the interment camps had been raided, all of the men, women and children freed. Could one have been forgotten?

Over the three days that the man had been laying unconscious, Winry had continued to puzzle over his identity and no matter how much she tried, she simply couldn't believe that he was a prisoner of war. Chancellor Mustang wouldn't have allowed for there to be a single prison camp left standing, let alone leave a man behind.

So if the stranger wasn't a POW then who was he?

She hadn't been able to get much information out of him for the few moments he was awake. In fact, the man had done nothing but babble hysterically, warning her about men in black uniforms with SS on their shoulders.

There were no factions that had black uniforms in Amestris or anywhere in the surrounding countries. He had frightened her with his hysterical rhetoric, so much so that she had grasped her wrench, hidden in her skirt pocket, so tightly her knuckles had gone white. The man was obviously delusional, most likely brought on by whatever torture he had endured to cause those lacerations, and he had thankfully passed out again before Winry had to resort to hitting him with her favored tool.

But those cryptic promises about getting her to safety and taking her to someone who would protect her…the man didn't even know her.

Then she remembered his eyes.

Those large brown eyes that seemed almost black when they looked at her with such terror and wonder, begging her to understand and help him and believe him. His eyes were unclouded, full of sincerity and truth, but what he was rambling about was complete balderdash.

Whatever he meant, he believed in it completely.

"Winry?"

Startled from her thoughts, Winry looked away from the man in the hospital bed and saw a nurse enter the room.

"Hello, Nancy."

The petite nurse smiled at her friend as she tiptoed towards the bed and checked the man's back.

"I understand he woke up for a few moments."

"Yeah." Winry replied, her hand reaching up to rub the spot where he had grabbed her. "He said his name is Luther Austerlitz."

"Austerlitz? What a strange name. Did he say anything else?"

"Nothing really. He just became agitated and almost fell out of his bed. Thank goodness he passed out before he needed to be sedated."

"Yes, the man already has enough trouble without having more drugs pumped into his system. His wounds look no better, though. We'll have to change his dressings in another few hours. He's a very sick man."

"Do you think he's a POW?" Winry asked.

"In my personal opinion? No. He doesn't carry himself like a prisoner of war, but he most certainly is military. You can tell by the boots." Nancy said, wiggling her eyebrows at Winry. The young woman blushed and ignored her friend's teasing gesture.

"His boots?"

"Oh yes, we stashed his personal effects in the cupboard just there." Nancy explained, tilting her head towards the closet across the room. "You mean you've been at his bedside for the last three days and haven't snooped? Winry, that's not like you at all." the brunette nurse chuckled. "Why have you been hanging around, anyway? I thought you didn't know this man."

"I don't, but you know me, can't leave anyone behind. I wanted to make sure he was going to be OK. Besides, I don't have anywhere else to go. The Resembool train won't even get in for another twelve hours. What else am I going to do?"

"You could go visit the Chancellor. It's not ever citizen that has a free pass to the Chancellor's house."

"I'm not that special." Winry mumbled, her eyes glued to the closet that held Luther's personal items. Just like Nancy had stated, Winry was notoriously snoopy, but it had never occurred to her to rummage through the hospital room. She had sat obediently in a chair by Luther's beside, either listening to the radio or reading one of her several automail books, maybe with an alchemy journal mixed in the bundle.

She still couldn't understand a word of the special science.

Nancy took a few notes on Luther's condition, including his name, and left to attend to her other charges, leaving Winry alone and knowing perfectly well that the blond automail mechanic was going to riffle through the man's things.

And indeed, as soon as the door was closed, Winry hurried to the closet and took out a pair of stiff black boots and a brown uniform.

The uniform itself was scruffy and still stained with Luther's blood. It was definitely ruined and should have been thrown out when it was removed. The boots had seen better days but they were certainly military issue. The trousers were simple, no embellishments or stripes and the brown top was just as plain. Over the left breast Winry spotted several holes and torn fibers, making her quickly suspect that medals or badges had been ripped from the shirt.

'_Some sort of dishonorable discharge, maybe?_' she pondered, touching the worn fabric.

Finishing her examination of the outer part of the uniform, Winry held her breath as she dove into the trouser pockets. In the left she found some biscuit crumbs, cigarette tobacco and a button. In the right pocket, however, Winry's fingers closed around something round and cold and metal. She pulled the object out.

"A pocket watch." she whispered to herself. "Figures."

It was a silver watch with a plain flat covering and a long chain that clanked lightly as Winry inspected the timepiece.

'_So he's not an alchemist. Thank God!_'

Realizing how familiar the situation seemed, Winry opened the watch and examined the clock inside.

It was a fine piece, very simple and precise, the sort of watch a soldier would want for its efficiency and light weight. As Winry watched the hands slowly tick by, her sharp blue eyes noticed a scrap of material caught under the face of the clock, a frayed tip dangling like a beckoning finger for the young woman to investigate. Biting her bottom lip in total concentration, Winry pried her thumb nail along the side of the clock and dug under the face and pulled up. She heard a click, and held back an excited squeal when the clock face sprung up.

A secret compartment.

How thrilling!

Lifting the clock face the rest of the way, Winry felt her stomach clench in anticipation as she peeked under the watch.

There was nothing there.

But when Winry looked behind the clock face, she discovered the pocket watch's secrets.

Her body froze, she dropped the watch and the blood drained from her face. Her eyes refused to blink, her blood ran cold, she couldn't breathe and she began to shake.

This was some sort of trick, a cruel joke, a mean spirited prank designed to crumble the strong automail mechanic and reduce her to that frightened fifteen year old girl that she had thought she buried along with the past.

There was a symbol carved into the back of the watch.

A serpent entwined on a cross topped with a crown flanked by wings.

The symbol for alchemists.

The one she had seen so many times as she watched the back of the man she loved walk away from her over and over again.

And above the symbol was a message.

The scrawl was rough, jagged, but the writing was unquestionable.

It was the same words…the same warning…all the same…

'_Don't Forget 18. July. 17_'.

* * *

_Ohhhhhhh!_

_Who is this mysterious stranger, how does he know Ed, and what does the date in his pocket watch mean?_

_Lots of questions, and in the next chapter, a few of them will be answered._

_Thanks for reading!_

_Reviews are welcomed and appreciated. No flames, please and thank you._

**Giant Nickel**


	3. The Man with the Golden Eyes

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters affiliated with the series. _

**A/N:** _Well, this is it, the exposition chapter. Now, you'll learn all about Luther and how he knows Ed and why he's trying to save Winry. You'll also learn what old Edo's been up to in the last five years. As for Winry's story...well, you'll have to wait and see. There are many flashbacks in this chapter, but I have seperated and italicized them for easy identification. I hope no one gets confused._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**The Man With the Golden Eyes**

_Amestris_

_7. May. 22_

***

Luther didn't open his eyes right away when he regained consciousness for the second time. Instead, he allowed his other senses to catch up to his mind. First, he caught the offending tang of musky stickiness and medication in his mouth, making his tongue feel thick and his lips stick together. He could smell sickness in the air, although he also caught the occasional refreshing whiff of cool night air and the sound of wind led him to suspect that a window must be open. He was still dressed in that irritating paper gown, bandages still covered his back and his left arm had started to tingle from the lack of blood flow. Clenching his fist in a vain attempt to dispel the pins and needles feeling, Luther grunted as he finally found the strength to open his eyes.

In a flash, far too quick for him to see or comprehend, Luther found himself pinned to the metal headboard, a single powerful arm pushing against his chest and the tip of a screwdriver digging into his neck.

Survival instincts enforced by his military training, Luther began to struggle, but his back rubbed harshly against the metal bars of the headboard and his attacker dug the screwdriver dangerously into his flesh.

"Don't try it you son of a bitch." a woman whispered lowly.

Luther didn't ask. He knew it was Winry Rockbell who threatened him.

"I know you can feel where my screwdriver is. Your pulse is beating against the tip which means that if I press just a little harder, I'll break the skin and rip into your carotid artery and you'll bleed out before you can call for help."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, focusing on the sharp narrowed blue eyes that bore into his, demanding that he offer up his soul until she was satisfied.

"Tell me where Edward Elric is." she demanded with cool composure. When Luther didn't answer right away she dug the screwdriver into his sensitive skin.

"How did you know?" he asked.

Keeping her strong grip on him, Winry turned her head to the bedside table. Luther followed her direction and discovered his pocket watch, the one that had inspired his strength as he searched through Central for the woman that was now threatening his life. Still, he didn't understand how she connected the watch to Herr Elric.

"He had a watch before. A silver pocket watch that they give to all the state alchemists. He left a message just like that, carved into the watch. 'Don't forget 3. Oct. 10'. That was his message, so he'd always remember. Do you know why that date was so important to him?"

"No." Luther choked.

"It was the day he left his childhood behind. The day he and his brother burned down their house and left Resembool for good. And this date, do you know what the date in your watch means?!"

"No!" Luther admitted.

"July 18th 1917. That's the day he came back from that place…the other world. It's the day he came back and the day he left forever. July 18th 1917 is the last time I saw Edward Elric. That was five years ago." Winry decried with passionate fury. There were tears in the corners of her eyes and her pretty mouth was twisted in a painful grimace. Unable to continue holding Luther, Winry relaxed her hold, the screwdriver dropping from her grip to roll harmlessly onto the floor. Luther didn't move. He stayed pressed up against the metal bars, his eyes never straying from the woman before him. She was crying and she was shaking, but she was showing more strength than he had ever seen.

Except for the man with the golden eyes…

"Do you know what the symbol means? The one under the message." Winry asked, her eyes still locked on the pocket watch.

"Herr Elric told me it was a sign from his world. The sign of the alchemists, like him."

"You're from that other world?" Winry questioned, her eyes focusing on Luther.

"Yes."

"Did Ed…did he or Al come with you?"

"No…they don't even know I'm here."

"Oh." Winry said, her shoulders sagging. It was as if the woman before him completely deflated and Luther didn't like that image. Fighting the pain that coursed through his body, Luther raised a hand and touched Winry's face with quaking gentleness.

"I'll take you to him." he promised.

Winry eyed Luther suspiciously, scooting away from him so that she was out of his reach.

"How do you know Ed? How do I know you didn't hurt him?" Winry asked.

"Oh, I didn't hurt Herr Elric." Luther said. "But others did."

"The men in black uniforms?" Winry offered. "The ones you said were after me? And why would they be after me, anyway?"

"Perhaps you would like me to start from the beginning?" Luther asked.

"Yes." Winry said, firm conviction in her voice.

Luther nodded, the same conviction glowing in his brown eyes.

"I work for Herr Elric. I am spy in his organization, and I'm here on a mission for him."

"Why do you call him 'Herr Elric'? What does that mean?" Winry wondered.

"It is a term of respect, and I respect Herr Elric more than any man I have ever known, even more than my commanding officer in the Sturmabteilung. I met Herr Elric six months ago. I met him when he was taken prisoner by the SS officers that I was stationed to…

* * *

_Luther curled his lip as the SS officers pushed their prisoner into the damp stone cell. He hated the SS men. He hated their methods, he hated their growing importance in the German government and most of all, he hated their black uniforms. The black represented everything these SS men were, brutal, ruthless, and frightening. They wished to erase hundreds of years of honorable history and tradition with their black uniforms, but as long as men in brown, like Luther, remained, the SS would not overcome Germany. _

_While Luther had his pride, he was ashamed to admit that the SS officers scared him slightly, just as they did almost anyone else that crossed their paths. But the man that they were beating in that small little cell didn't seem to be afraid. For a man of such short stature, the prisoner held his chin up defiantly as he was led to his cell and he never said a word as the officers beat him. _

_Luther could hear the sickening thumps of leather hitting flesh and the crack of bone breaking. They probably broke his nose…they liked breaking noses. Luther made a note to report the increasing brutality of the SS to his superior officer._

_That was Luther's mission in this den of hedonistic devils. He was the youngest captain in the Sturmabteilung and had been sent on special orders from the Oberster SA-Führer to this particular faction of SS officers. He was meant to be an inferior to the SS, but in reality, he was a spy for the Sturmabteilung, sent to observe and report on the group that was increasingly overriding the power of Germany's militia. _

_As long as Luther Austerlitz lived, the color of the uniform would always be brown, never black. _

_The sound of rattling chains alerted Luther to the end of the beating. Now, they would be chaining the man to the wall and leave him to suffer in the cold wetness of the cell. A few moments later, the officers in black uniforms left, a strange mechanical arm in their possession. Luther made a note to mention that as well in his report. _

_Luther had been assigned to guard the prisoner, a lowly position, one that made the SS feel superior to the spectacled man in brown. Still, Luther took his assignment seriously, as any good soldier should. He planted his booted feet on the stone floor, held his rifle firmly at his side, and waited in the dark quiet._

_He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard the prisoner speak. _

_"Hey! Anybody out there?"_

_Luther felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. _

_It was against protocol to speak to the prisoners, especially if one was a lowly night guard, but there was something in that voice, a haunted hurt quality that asked for little more than an ear to listen. Luther gulped, relaxed his hold on his rifle, and turned to look through the bars in the door. _

_It was dark in the cell, but Luther was able to make out the slumped figure of the man. He was sitting on the floor, his head bent forward. The sleeve of his right arm had been shredded, revealing strange metal plating around his shoulder and chest and the fact that he was missing an arm._

_"I knew they wouldn't leave me without a couple of guards." the man joked._

_"I am the only one here." Luther answered softly._

_"What?! They think I only need _**one**_ guard? Do they think I'm useless with only one arm? Those bastards!"_

_"Be quiet!" Luther hissed. "If they hear you they'll come back and beat you even more. Do you want that?"_

_"Don't you?" the man barked back. "Don't you want them to beat me? Beat me into a bloody pulp until all that's left of me is my metal arm and leg." _

_"I don't want to beat you!" Luther cried before biting the inside of his cheek. If the SS heard him he would be beaten as well. "I don't want to beat you." Luther repeated through grit teeth. "Just try to rest."_

_"Can't." the man said. "Nothing like getting your ass kicked within an inch of your life to make you none too eager to fall asleep."_

_"Hm." Luther grunted, still staring through the bars at the chained man._

_"Hey." _

_The man began to move, shifting his weight so that he was solidly pressed against the wall he was chained to. He lifted his head for the first time, and even through the darkness, Luther saw the man's eyes. _

_Gold._

_Gold like the sunrise, intense like fire, and trained on him. They were hypnotizing, calling to him, seeking a connection, and in that moment, Luther felt as if he was facing the rest of his life. _

_"You wanna hear a story?"_

* * *

"He told me things. Crazy things! Amazing things! About another world like mine, a place called Amestris where alchemy had taken precedence over physics and alchemists were the protectors of the people. He told me about the Hero of the People, the Fullmetal Alchemist, who traveled Amestris in the company of his younger brother, a soul anchored alchemically to a suit of empty armor."

"He told you about Al? Ed hardly told anyone here." Winry commented.

"But Alphonse Elric is now returned to the flesh and really, who would believe such a tale?" Luther said.

"But there were people who came here five years ago. People who believed in Ed's world and came to destroy it!" Winry argued.

"I know." Luther sighed. "As soon as Herr Elric arrived the rumors among the SS began. It was the Thule Society that came to Shamballa five years ago, but after that disaster the organization was disbanded. There are still experiments performed in the occult, but the efforts in attaining Shamballa have been set aside."

"What is your army looking for now?" Winry asked bitterly.

"A bomb."

* * *

_"Tell us where the bomb is, Elric." the commanding SS officer demanding, circling the bound and helpless Edward like a hungry vulture. _

_"You know what, I forget, but maybe if you feed me some decent grub my full stomach will help me remember." Ed shot back with a cheeky grin. The interrogating officer visibly bristled and nodded his head to the man standing behind the prisoner. Having been given permission, the officer swung back and brought the lash down with unmerciful force upon Edward's naked back._

_He hissed._

_"Damn! All I want is a fucking sandwich that isn't on stale bread, that doesn't have green cheese or rotten meat in it! You guy are such hard asses."_

_"Again." the commanding officer ordered, his words followed by the crack of the whip ripping into Ed's flesh. _

_"Fuck!"_

_"The uranium bomb, Elric. We know you took it, we know you hid it. Tell us where it is and this will all end." _

_"Yeah, out in the yard, right? I know you dickholes will just kill me the minute I tell you anything and I'll kill myself before I tell you shit."  
"It doesn't have to be this way, Elric." the officer said as he tugged on the young man's chin and forced him to look him in the eye. _

_Ed spit in the man's face._

_"Another twenty lashes, and no food for him tonight."_

_Luther pulled away from the door when the officer marched out of the room, acting as if he hadn't been witnessing the torture. That was all Luther could do, stand at attention, watch and listen, and for the next half an hour, all he heard was the slicing whoosh of the whip and the sharp crack as it tore into Edward Elric's back._

* * *

"Stop!" Winry begged, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she covered her mouth. Luther could feel his own eyes watering at the display before him. "You should have helped him. Why didn't you help him?!" Winry ragged, slapping Luther across the face with amazing strength. Luther simply sat there and let her beat her woe upon hi head. A single slap was all he received however. Winry stepped away and spoke quietly. "Is Ed still alive?"

"Yes." Luther said, raising a comforting hand. She flinched at his touch, however, and began to pace his room.

"Was there more? More torture, I mean. I don't want to know what exactly, but…"

"Yes." Luther answered honestly. "Everyday they did something to him, trying to make him talk about the bomb, but Herr Elric never gave in. When the torture didn't work, they started to experiment with his mechanical leg while it was still attached to his body, playing with his nerves. Sometimes I wondered if the torture was even about the uranium bomb or simply about hurting him. But he never said a word, and when they decided that physical torture wasn't going to do it, they tried something else."

"What?" Winry asked, not sure if she wanted to know.

"In my world we have a drug that dulls one's judgment, makes them tell the truth."

"I've heard of that. Sodium thiopental." Winry stated. Luther nodded, impressed with the young woman's knowledge of such narcotics. She was just as remarkable as Herr Elric had described. "Did it work?"

"No. Herr Elric resisted the drug, although it did make him more lucid with his insults. They wanted him to tell them everything: about the bomb, his organization, his spies, a list of names of people he had helped escape the country. They tried to break him, and he nearly overdosed on the drug. That was the night he told me about you…"

* * *

_"Hey Luther, you out there?" Edward asked, his words slurred._

_"I'm here, Herr Elric."  
"Don't call me that shit." Ed snorted. "My head's spinning. I just puked all over myself…am I dying?"_

_"No, Herr Elric. I won't let you die." Luther promised._

_Ed laughed at Luther's words, sounding like a child, so misplaced in such a terrible prison._

_"I hope that when I die, I get to see her again."_

_"Her, Herr Elric?"_

_"Winry…" Ed sighed. _

_The mention of a woman surprised Luther. He couldn't deny he was intrigued. Seeing Herr Elric resist all forms of torture and interrogation had made Luther wonder if the man with the golden eyes was really a man at all. To hear news of a sweetheart made Herr Elric a little more human._

_"She's the first person I ever knew. I used to pull her hair in school just so she'd pay attention to me and not to other boys…she built my automail."_

_"Your metal limbs?"_

_"Yeah, my automail, aren't you fucking listening, Luther?!" Ed snapped. "Ah, Winry…she always used to hit me with a wrench I bought her, how's that for irony? But I never minded, so long as I was the only boy she was hitting."_

_"She was violent, Herr Elric?" Luther wondered._

_"She was clueless, that's what!" Ed bellowed. "Always wanting to know what I was doing, whining that I wouldn't let her come along, getting pissed when I wouldn't tell her things. The stupid girl never figured out that I was doing it to protect her! If she wasn't with me, if she didn't know, if I didn't tell her, then they couldn't hurt her."_

_Luther remained silent as Herr Elric raved about this Winry woman from his home world. He spoke reverently about her medical knowledge, laughed at memories that he didn't voice, and there were some times it seemed as if Herr Elric was speaking to his Winry, or the Winry forever locked in his mind._

_As his voice became hoarse and his words drifted form coherence to babble, Luther suspected that Herr Elric was soon going to pass out._

_"Hey Luther?" Ed asked quietly._

_"Yes, Herr Elric?" he answered._

_"When I die, do you think I'll see Winry again?"_

_Luther was taken aback by the painful longing in Herr Elric's question and he struggled to keep his own vulnerability out of his voice. He respected this man greatly and didn't wish to disappoint him._

_"Yes, Herr Elric, I think you'll see your Winry again."_

_"Yeah…"_

_Luther could hear the wistful smile in the man's voice._

_"I'll go back home to Resembool, and Winry will be waiting for me in her yellow house just as always. That's how I want to see her again…back in Resembool…back home…"_

* * *

"He said that about me?"

"And he meant every word, Fraulein." Luther said sincerely.

Winry was silent for a long while, the thoughts drifting through her mind unknown to Luther. He thought that Fraulein Winry and Herr Elric kept many thoughts to themselves, and perhaps that was the root of their sadness.

"So, you were his friend? You took care of him?" Winry questioned as she stopped her pacing and sat at the end of Luther's bed. Luther did not mention that the question of Herr Elric and Fraulein Winry's feelings for one another was a subject left in the silence of the room. Instead, he answered the question that was voiced.

"I did everything I could for him. We often spoke at night through the bars of his cell. I told him about my past…the things I've seen and done, and he told me about what he did here. We are both sinful men, Fraulein, and we have been spending our whole lives trying to find redemption. In that, we were the closest of comrades."

"You sound just like Ed." Winry drawled as she crossed her arms. "Self-righteous guilt tripping freaks, both of you."

"I suppose so." Luther responded, flashing a humorless smile.

"What happened after next. Ed did escape, right?"

"Oh yes. I helped him." Luther admitted. "Shortly after Herr Elric had passed out from the truth serum, SS guards came with a civilian boy. I was told to leave and I did, but I listened and watched and I found out that the civilian they had brought to Herr Elric's cell was a psychic."

"Why would they bring a psychic to Ed?"

"To look into his mind…to find out what they could use against him. After all, they could not break his body, they could not break his mind, but if they used his emotions against him they might be able to yield answers…

* * *

_"What did you discover?"_

_"Commander Kluge!" the soldier responded, raising his arm in a salute and clicking his heels. "Sir, your hypothesis was correct. Elric yielded pertinent information that should help us break his hold on the whereabouts of the uranium bomb."_

_"The psychic found something?" Commander Kluge drawled, a gloved hand tapping meticulously on his desk._

_"The truth serum greatly diminished Elric's mental barriers. The psychic couldn't find the bomb or even the stronghold of Elric's network, but he saw something. A yellow house in the mountains where a girl with blond hair and blue eyes waits. The valley where the yellow house is is called Resembool and the girl's name is Winry."_

_"And where can we find them?" Kluge asked calmly._

_"We believe this Resembool and Winry are from Elric's world…from Shamballa." the soldier responded._

_Commander Kluge was silent for several long moments, the lulling tapping of his fingers hypnotizing Luther as he strained to listen through the crack in the wall. _

_"We'll have to go to Shamballa." Kluge finally announced. _

_"Sir!"_

_"It's been impossible to track down any of Elric's connections or safe houses, and we've been trying for five years. But we know where this Winry is. We can find her."_

_"But sir, she is in Shamballa."_

_The constant tap of Commander Kluge's fingers stopped at the insubordinate question to his logic and authority. Luther listened through the crack, knowing that the solider was aware he had spoken out of turn against the Commander and would get punished for it. _

_He heard the Commander stand from his chair and walk a few paces, most likely to stand before his desk. He would be facing the young officer, maintaining eye contact._

_Luther felt a chill rush down his spine at the thought of Commander Kluge's cold black eyes. Those eyes were deadly and looking into them you knew you were less than an insect in the commander's opinion._

_He heard the soldier scream in surprised pain before realizing that a shot had been fired. _

_He would learn later that Commander Kluge had shot the soldier's left ear off._

_The Commander waited until the soldier had stopped crying before he spoke._

_"Our associates in the Thule Society reached Shamballa once before. We'll find a way to get there again. We'll retrieve this Winry person and maybe then Herr Elric will be more co-operative."_

_"Y-yes, sir!" the wounded soldier stuttered. _

_"Good. Is the psychic still here?"_

_"Yes sir!"_

_"Take him to the courtyard and shoot him. Leave the body in the forest for the wolves"_

_"Sir!"_

_And with those last orders, Luther hurried away from his hiding spot before he was noticed. _

_It only took him a few minutes to decide what he was going to do. It was dangerous and foolish and if he was caught it would cost him his life, but it had to be done…_

* * *

"I helped Herr Elric escape three nights later."

Winry remained silent, her back turned away from Luther as he continued to speak.

"He needed his mechanical arm if he hoped to stand a chance at escape. It wasn't easy finding the piece, but when I did I memorized the guard rotation so that I would have the best window of opportunity. They had taken it apart…"

"They what! Those bastards, I'll kill all of them!" Winry announced, standing over Luther with her hands on her hips and a deadly glint in her eyes.

"They put it back together!" Luther stuttered quickly, terrified of the woman that hovered over him. She most certainly looked as if she wanted to kill something and he would prefer it wasn't him. "They had put it back together, though a few of the plates had been removed when I retrieved it."

"That's not back together!" Winry protested, arms flailing in the air. "Without the plates, the gears and cables are exposed and more susceptible to damage. The arm probably doesn't even work right."

"I wouldn't know anything about that, Fraulein, but I did retrieve the arm and went straight to Herr Elric's cell. He was groggy, but I showed him the arm and he smiled. He exposed his connection port and told me to put it in. He made such a face…such a horrible face. I could tell the connection pained him but he told me to forget about it. He had to escape that night. I took him out of his cell, I led him through the sewers and into the forest…

* * *

_"I guess this is where we part, Luther."_

_"Yes, Herr Elric. If you keep walking to the south you'll reach a river, follow it and you'll get to Magdeburg by late morning. You should be able to contact your people from there, but don't stay in the town long. They'll go there when they realize you've escaped." _

_Luther handed Herr Elric a leather satchel with some food, medicine and a map and bid the man to leave._

_"Wait a minute." Edward had said. Digging into a secret compartment in his boots, the man with the golden eyes pulled out a silver pocket watch. He held it up in the moonlight and Luther watched with fascination as Herr Elric opened the device and revealed the message in the secret compartment. "Take it."_

_"Herr Elric…"_

_"Quit fucking calling me that!" Ed barked. Luther suspected he was more irritable due to the pain of the automail connection…a connection he hadn't felt in so long. _

_"Sorry, Herr Elric."_

_"Look, take the watch. You want to help me, become part of my network, be my inside man."_

_"I don't think…"_

_"You know what they're doing, Luther. You know about the people they kill and experiment on and torture all for their utopian society. You've told me you're disgusted with this régime, well then help me fight it!" Edward declared passionately as he shoved the watch into Luther's limp hand. "All of my contacts have this watch. Show the hidden message and my people will know that you're part of the network and trustworthy. We need an inside man, Luther. We need to stay one step ahead of them."_

_"Do you trust me so much, my Herr?"_

_The man with the golden eyes didn't say anything. His mouth became a grim line, his eyes intense and burning. He curled Luther's fingers over the watch. _

_"One man is trying to destroy the world, so why can't one man try to save it?"_

_Luther remained silent. _

_Edward took that as a sign of acceptance._

_"I'll have someone contact you next month."_

_And with those parting words, Edward Elric rushed away into the night…_

* * *

"That was the last time I saw him, but not the last I heard from him. He would have his contacts send me messages and I would tell him all I knew about Commander Kluge's operations. I…I think we saved a lot of people."

"How long were you a part of this network?" Winry wondered.

"Six months."

"Did you tell Ed about their plans to come after me?"

Luther's silence and shamefully lowered head was all the answer Winry needed.

"Why wouldn't you tell him?"

"I didn't think they would succeed! After Eckhart failed to conquer Shamballa five years ago all documents on this world were destroyed. I didn't think they could come back even though Commander Kluge said they would find a way. As it turns out, not all of the documents were destroyed. They still had the information on the circle, the one needed to create the Gate. Only, they could never get it to work."

"Then how did you end up here?" Winry demanded.

"They learned about human transmutation."

Once again, the blood drained from Winry's face. She might not know much about alchemy, but the words 'human transmutation' had been engraved into her mind.

"What did they do?" she asked, deathly afraid of the answer.

Luther bit his bottom look, desperately ashamed of what he was about to admit.

"In my world, there are people that are violently persecuted by the government and military. These people are called Jews and since they have specific physical characteristics, they are easy to distinguish. Commander Kluge ordered his men to find one hundred Jewish babies. It seems that all humans have the potential to access the Gate since we all come from the Gate. As infants, part of the Gate is still within us…like a part of our souls.

"A transmutation circle has five points. Using some of Herr Elric's blood that they had collected during his interment, they outlined the five points of the circle and then, using the babies as material…"

"Oh my God…" Winry choked. "Where the hell were you?! Why didn't you stop it?!" she cried, slapping Luther across the face again.

"Because I was begin tortured myself!" Luther bellowed. "They caught me sending intelligence to Herr Elric and knew I was a part of his network. I was stripped of my rank, whipped and starved. They wanted to break me…they wanted me to tell them everything I knew, but I didn't. I thought of all the days Herr Elric suffered and how he never gave in. He never even gave them the satisfaction of screaming in pain. I wanted to be strong for Herr Elric."

"What happened next?" Winry asked.

"I heard the guards talking about a unit going to Shamballa to find the Winry from Resembool. They knew that if they captured you and sent word to Herr Elric that you were in their possession…he would do anything they asked."

"Do they really think I'm so important to Ed?" Winry asked, tucking her chin into her chest and feeling her self-esteem plummet. After all, she had never felt Ed cared about her all that much other than as a childhood friend.

Luther grunted against the pain in his back and reached forward to touch Winry's hair, stroking her blond locks as much to comfort her as himself.

"Of course you're important to Herr Elric. You are his most precious person. When I heard that they were leaving, I found the strength to free myself from captivity. I had just enough time to send a message out to my closest contacts and then I jumped into the Gate. You see, I want to help Herr Elric in any way that I can. That's why I've come to get you, Fraulein Winry."

"Are you going to take me to Ed?"

"With my last breath. I swear I will get you to Herr Elric. It was lucky that I found you before the SS men did. What were you doing in Central? Why were you not in your yellow house in Resembool?"

Winry was silent for a long moment, absorbing all that she had been told, feeling her body quake at the very thought of being with Ed and Al again. She was all alone in this world, maybe…maybe she wouldn't have to be alone in another world.

Taking a deep breath and turning to face Luther, Winry tucked a few loose hairs behind her ears before speaking.

"My dog died."

* * *

_I would like to thank everyone who has been reading so far._

_Reviews are welcomed and appreciated. No flames, please and thank you._

**Giant Nickel**


	4. Equivalent Exchange

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist._

**A/N:** _So, here's another chapter that has a lot of expostition, but this time, there's some action. I know we're all eager for Ed and Winry to meet again, and it will happen, but what's a heartfelt reunion without a little struggle and strife? Winry's also been through a great deal in the last five years, and while some of her trails are revealed, more a more will come about as the fic progresses. I want Winry to be a very proactive character rather than someone who watches and waits on the sidelines. Wonder what Ed will think about that?_

_Also, this chapter has some pretty gory stuff, hence the 'M' rating. I just want everyone to be aware that violence and horrific imagery are going to be part of this series._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Equivalent Exchange**

_Amestris_

_7. May. 22_

***

"Maybe I should go back a little further." Winry decided, crossing her legs as she got comfortable on Luther's hospital bed. "You see, after Ed and Al left, after those people from your world tried to destroy this one, there was some civil unrest. There were some people who believed that if our military couldn't protect us from an invasion then perhaps it was time for a new, much more sever, régime. There was a civil war. It lasted eighteen months.

"My grandmother and I immediately set up shop here in Central so we'd be closer to the soldiers, but a fever broke out, and grandma was so old and unstoppable…she was the last one to die from the outbreak. After Ed and Al, the only family I had left was my grandmother. My parents were killed in a war when I was just a child…there was only me and Den left."

"Please, Fraulein, you don't have to continue." Luther said, realizing how difficult it was for the young woman to go back into the painful memories of her past. But Winry, just as stubborn as Herr Elric had promised, shrugged off Luther's comfort and pressed on.

"Grandma never liked the battlefield. My two uncles were soldiers who died in battle and my parents were medics who were also killed in a war. I was afraid, but I wanted to help, and waiting in Central just for men to come back needing an arm or a leg wasn't going to cut it. I spoke to the commander of our side, General Mustang, and received permission to go to the war zone as a neutral medic, one that would help any citizen or soldier no matter what side they were on."

"That was very dangerous, Fraulein. Herr Elric would not approve."

"Well Ed wasn't here, was he?" Winry spat bitterly and her ire did not go unnoticed by Luther.

"He did what he thought was right to protect you." Luther defended softly.

"I know. Treating me like dirt, ignoring me for four years, disappearing, reappearing, making me believe I didn't matter to him, all because he wanted to protect me…you men have a cruel sense of honor."

The room was silent for several moments as Winry tried to regain her composure. Luther simply stared in wonder at the strong but so very vulnerable woman, wanting to help her, wishing it was Herr Elric in his place so that Winry would find some comfort in his presence. There was a lot of anger, a lot of said and unsaid words between Herr Elric and Fraulein Winry, and after so many years…shouldn't God grant this pair the chance to be together again?

"I saw a lot of things…all the things that Ed was trying to protect me from, I saw them anyway, and he wasn't here to help me understand or get through it. After the peace treaty was signed this country had its first democratic election. General Mustang became Chancellor Mustang and a senate of representatives was put in place. Things have been better in this country than they ever have been. People are actually happy, I think, not scared.

"I traveled all over, offering my medical and mechanical services to anyone who needed them. After a year of that, I decided to go back to Resembool…pick up where Grandma left off. That's what I've been doing all this time. And then, two weeks ago, Den died."

"I am sorry for your loss, Fraulein." Luther said, though he wasn't sure if he was sorry for the loss the Elric brothers, the loss of her grandmother, the loss of her dog, or all three. Fraulein Winry was certainly a strong woman to endure so much in her young life.

"She had been suffering with cancer for a while. It was a blessing when she died in her sleep. After that, it was just so quiet. I'm used to noise and people and chaos, but now that it's only me…I couldn't stand it. So I decided to take my first vacation in five years and came to Central to visit some friends. I was going back home when I missed the train and met you. That was three days ago."

Luther nodded solemnly when the last few words of Fraulein Winry's story caught his attention.

"Three days? I've been in this hospital for three days?!"

"Yes." Winry answered, looking at her wristwatch. "Actually, the Resembool train should be here in the next hour."

"One hour…we only have one hour…" Luther muttered as he struggled to swing his legs over the side of his bed and slip out.

"Wait! Just wait a minute Mr. Austerlitz. Where do you think you're going?" Winry demanded as she placed her hands on the man's shoulders. Unlike the last time she had tried to restrain him, however, Luther resisted her gentle pushes and stood up.

"We have to leave now. They'll be here soon and we have to get to the underground city before they find us."

"Just hold on!" Winry cried, restraining herself from smacking the sick man over the head with her wrench. "How do you know these SS men are coming?"

"The Resembool train that will arrive in an hour, it's the same one that we both missed, yes?"

Winry nodded.

"They know you live in a yellow house. When they discovered that you weren't there they interrogated you neighbors, perhaps even beat them for the answer to your whereabouts."

"My friends would never…"

"Trust me, Fraulein, in the end, the SS always get their answers. I would bet my last mark that the unit sent to get you is on that incoming train. They will have the names of those you came to visit, and after they are done torturing them, they will come for you."

Luther's words were final and deadly.

Winry released the man and he staggered his way towards the closet where is uniform was and began to change. Winry didn't move, her eyes locked on the pocket watch that twinkled on the bedside table. Reverently, she reached out and took the timepiece in her hands, cradling it in her palm like a baby.

Ed had touched this watch.

He had held it, carved his message into it, and kept it safe until it was time to pass it on. In the last five years Winry hadn't even dreamed of being able to touch something of Ed's again. All she had left was his red coat, the same red coat that was thrown over the arm of the chair she had been sitting in. It was a little different than when Ed had last worn it. Specifically, Winry had had it tapered to suit her figure and added a few embellishing black belts and buckles to make it more fashionable. But it still had the alchemists' symbol on the back.

Ed's symbol.

When Winry wore that coat, she imagined it was Ed's arms embracing her and not her own. There wasn't a day that had passed that the young woman didn't miss and long for the Elric brothers, but with Ed it was so very different than it was for Al.

She wanted to see the brothers again.

She wanted to hug Al and laugh with him and tell him about her adventures traveling across Amestris.

She wanted to slap Ed silly and beat him with her wrench before kissing him until his lips went numb and every alchemical formula he knew leaked out of his ears.

She wanted to belong again.

She didn't want to be alone.

"Fraulein." Luther called. He had finished dressing and was doing up the buttons on his cuffs. "The SS won't stop until they have you. They are trained to be thorough and ruthless. They never fail. It is what they do. One way or another, you will be leaving Shamballa and going to my world. If you come with me, I promise that I will get you safely to Herr Elric."

Looking down at the pocket watch in her hands, Winry closed her eyes and made her decision.

She turned around, grabbed her red coat and offered the pocket watch back to Luther.

"Let's go, Mr. Austerlitz." she declared bravely, hard conviction sparkling in her eyes.

Luther smiled.

"Keep the watch, Fraulein. It's yours now." he said as he limped towards the door. Putting on her coat, Winry deposited the watch into her pocket, picked up her tool box and followed the man in the brown uniform out of the hospital room.

* * *

"Would you please make sure that Chancellor Mustang gets this immediately?" Winry asked a letter courier as she handed the young girl a manila envelope. "Here's some extra incentive." she said, tucking a pouch of coins into the teenager's pocket. "Don't let anyone stop you, and when you get to the guards at the gate tell them you have an urgent message from Miss Winry Rockbell for the Chancellor's eyes only. They'll let you in without any trouble."

"Right, miss! I'm on my way!"

And indeed, the girl of about fourteen was already racing down the street, turning around a building to disappear into the evening crowds.

It was already dark, but Central was still bursting with people.

Giving herself a shake, Winry cleared her mind and focused on her goal.

She was going to through the Gate.

She was going to be with Ed and Al again.

She was scared.

Winry had never harbored a deep love for alchemy. She hadn't understood it as a child and when she finally had come to learn its basic principles she hated it even more. Knowing that alchemy had done those horrible things to Ed and Al…knowing that they believed in it so much they thought they could bypass natural law and restore human life…

'_But I suppose, if I had known more about alchemy when my parents died, I would have tried it to._' she admitted silently. She couldn't hate Ed and Al for loving their mother so much that they just wanted one more look…just one more moment…

"Ready?" Luther asked, appearing by Winry's side. She nodded and picked up her tool box.

"Are you all right?" Winry asked. They hadn't even left the hospital courtyard before Luther had complained of having to relieve himself. Although Winry suspected he was in pain, she accepted Luther's excuse of having to duck into an alleyway for a quick piss against the wall and waited.

It was during those ten minutes that Winry came to her senses and realized that she couldn't just disappear from her world without telling someone. The note she had scribbled to Chancellor Mustang and his wife Riza was hurried and primitive, but it got the point across.

_Dear Roy and Riza,_

_I'm with a man who says he knows Ed and Al from the other world._

_I'm going back with him._

_Beware men in black uniforms with an SS on their arms. They are dangerous and may come after your family. _

_Be well. _

_Tell the girls I'll miss them._

_Love, Winry. _

Simple and to the point. Winry only hoped that the letter arrived after it was too late for Roy or Riza to stop her.

"Let's go." she said, readjusting the heavy satchel on her shoulder. "I sort of know the way."

And with that, Winry and Luther left the hospital courtyard and made their way towards the blocked up entrance the led to the underground city. They didn't speak much on their journey, only pausing when Winry felt they needed to rest due to Luther's condition, but the soldier stubbornly pressed on.

They found the boarded up entrance, they slithered their way down corridors and hidden tunnels until they reached the long staircase.

"We need to hurry." Luther instructed. "By now, the SS will know where we're going."

"And how will they know?" Winry asked as she shuffled down the staircase, trying to keep up with the hurried Luther.

"They likely split up. Some probably went to your friends to demand answers while others scoured the streets asking if they knew where you went. Once they learn you've been in the company of a man in a brown uniform, they'll know it's me."

"How…"

"I am the only Sturmabteilung soldier in the SS unit that knew about this invasion and capture mission." Luther stated with hard conviction. Winry did not argue again, crossing her fingers and hoping that the Chancellor and his family would be alright. She didn't want anything to happen to Roy or Riza or their daughters, Sarah and Collette.

'_They'll be fine._' she assured herself, seeing the end of the stairway coming closer and closer. '_Roy wouldn't allow anything to happen and Riza is the best shot in the country. They'll be fine._'

When they reached the bottom of the staircase it was pitch black. Winry quickly pulled out the palm sized torch she kept in her toolbox. While it provided minimal light, it did make it easier for Winry and Luther to navigate the ruined city and discover the large empty town square where the transmutation circle resided.

"Here, Fraulein." Luther said, taking an object that looked like a black porous egg out of his boot and pressing it into her palm.

"What's this?" Winry asked, her mechanic's mind already itching to take the strange device apart.

"It's a grenade."

"A what?" Winry asked. She had never heard of such a thing.

"Think of it as a personal portable bomb."

"What!' Winry hollered, suddenly horrified at the object she held. She tried to push it back into Luther's hands but he refused to accept the grenade.

"You may need it. Just be sure you don't dislodge the pin. That's what sets it off."

"I don't want this thing!" Winry insisted, but Luther began to walk away from her, ignoring her outraged protests. Winry grumbled and fumed, but she didn't let go of the grenade. She was afraid it would go off if she did. "So now what? Do you know how to get one of these things to work?" Winry asked sharply.

"I think so. Herr Elric said…AH!"

"MR. AUSTERLITZ!"

Winry was completely taken by surprise by the shot that rang out and the dull thud of the bullet tearing through Luther's chest. He grunted and lurched forward, blood pouring out of his mouth.

"Don't hit the woman!" someone yelled. Winry looked up and spotted four men, each one dressed in a black uniform with their weapons drawn. She almost dropped the grenade.

"You thought you could save her, Luther?" a man with a thick brown mustache taunted. "This is why the Sturmabteilung looses power in Germany's military with every passing day. Soon, the Schutzstaffel will be Germany's soldiers and we will not let the country fall into disgrace like your pathetic régime has!"

The four men advanced on the pair.

Winry was frozen to the spot, unsure of where she could run and unwilling to leave Luther as he lay bleeding to death at her feet. He had managed to turn over so that he was on his back, straining his neck to look up at the advancing SS officers.

"You are Winry from Resembool, Fraulein?" another soldier asked.

"Don't answer!" Luther warned, blood slipping down his chin and splattering on the floor.

"Seize her!"

The four officers began to charge the pair in the centre of the transmutation circle. Winry didn't know what to do, wishing desperately that she had taken her revolver with her to Central instead of leaving it back in Resembool.

Just as the soldiers had entered the edge of the transmutation circle, Luther sat up, another grenade in his hands, the pin pulled and sitting harmlessly beside him on the stone ground. Before Winry could utter a protest, Luther threw the grenade with perfect and deadly accuracy.

It landed at the booted feet of the SS soldiers and exploded, stone and shrapnel, blood and body parts flying into the air. Winry covered her face with her tool box while Luther could do little to protect his terribly injured body from the rain of gore.

Two of the SS were dead, their bodies having been blown to bits by the strength of the grenade, shrapnel and stone having ripped their torsos apart, their faces unrecognizable, a foot blown to the left, an arm to the right. Just a few feet before Winry was a human ear splattered in brain and blood.

She held a hand over her mouth to keep the bile at bay.

"Damn you, Luther!" one of the two surviving soldiers cried. It looked as if his left eye had been ripped from its socket, blood pouring down the side of his face like a river. The man grimaced and charged, his gun still held tightly in his hand. The other soldier, a long shard of jagged shrapnel deeply embedded into his thigh, also began to charge forward despite his painful limp.

Before they could reach Luther and Winry two shots rang out, shocking the four people in the transmutation circle. The two SS soldiers stood still in agonized wonder. Matching bullet holes smoked from the middle of their necks, the smell of blood and burnt skin filling the air. With each desperate beat of their hearts, blood spewed out from the holes, draining their lives with each precious pulse. Both men fell together, their bodies collapsing like fallen rag dolls, their blood mingling with the broken bodies of their comrades and seeping into the transmutation circle.

"Winry!"

Looking up from the carnage, Winry spotted two figures on top of one of crumbling buildings. Each had a pistol drawn.

Although they were both in civilian clothing, their military issue trench coats and posture gave away their identities.

"Roy! Riza!" Winry called out, waving to the pair.

"Winry, don't do it!" Roy called. "You don't know who this man is."

"He knows Ed." Winry argued, looking down at Luther who was struggling to stay alive. "What happened? Did men in black come after you?"  
"Your note gave us all the warning we needed. The others have been detained." Riza replied. Winry sighed in relief.

"We're coming down. Don't even think about it, Winry. You can't go through the Gate." Roy continued in his regal commanding voice. He began to make his way down the building, Riza just behind him, when Luther looked up and spotted the pair.

He gasped wetly, little bubbles of blood collecting at the corners of his mouth. Winry looked at Luther, taken aback by the horrific expression on the man's face as he stared with wide-eyed terror at Roy Mustang.

"How did you get here?" he whispered to himself, though Winry caught his remark. "You can't have her!" he yelled, halting Roy and Riza's decent to the transmutation circle. "Burn in hell, Kluge. Herr Elric will destroy you!"

And with those strange warnings, Luther clapped his hands together, the blood slapping wetly against his palms and making them sticky. Then, he brought them down on the ground, his blood and the blood of the SS soldiers mixing together along the lines of the transmutation circle. In his mind, Luther thought about his body and those of the four soldiers, breaking down and building them back up again. He focused his mind on using the circle to repair the bodies of himself and the others…

* * *

_"Here is your dinner, Herr Elric." Luther said with cheerful ease as he tossed a paper bag through the bars in the wooden door. He watched as the young man caught the bag with easy grace before using his teeth to tear the paper off._

_Luther laughed._

_"Do not eat the wrapping, Herr Elric." Luther teased. Herr Elric shot him a look that very clearly said 'Don't be a fucking idiot.'_

_"Mmm!" Herr Elric sighed as he tore into the sandwich with ravenous vigor. "Salami and mustard on rye. Luther, if it wasn't for you I'd be nothing but a skeleton. No one could live on the slop they feet you in this hole." _

_"Thank you, Herr Elric." Luther said, biting into the second half of the sandwich. While the smaller meals had done little to alleviate Luther's hunger, he gladly made the sacrifice if it kept Herr Elric reasonably healthy and still alive._

_"So, what part of the alchemy lesson are we on tonight? We've already covered the basic laws and the purpose of the circle…what would you like to me to tell you, Luther?"_

_"If it pleases, Herr Elric…"_

_"Quit fucking calling me that!"_

_"If you don't mind," Luther continued, ignoring Herr Elric's curse, "would you tell me how you came to this world? It was with alchemy, yes? That's how Eckhart was able to go to your world. How did you bridge that gap?"  
Herr Elric was silent for a long time, the only sound his chomping of bread and meat as he thought about what to tell his night guard._

_"That's heavy stuff, Luther. You sure you want to know?"_

_"Yes, Herr Elric."_

_"Fine." Ed sighed, readjusting himself against the wall. "Alchemy is all about deconstruction and reconstruction. You break something down to its chemical compounds and rebuild it into something else, but you always use a balanced equation. That's equivalent exchange, remember? Well alchemy, like any science, has its rules and its absolutes…there are some things you just shouldn't try. _

_"I tried."  
"Herr Elric?" Luther asked, trying to keep up with the man's instructions. _

_"Human transmutation…alchemy where human bodies are used as the material, is absolutely forbidden. When you attempt this sort of alchemy you risk loosing everything…like an arm, or a leg, or even your whole body."  
"Like what happened to the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother?" Luther asked._

_"Exactly." Ed spat. "If you ever attempt human transmutation, you open up a rift in time and space and that brings you to the Gate. There's something there…God, or Truth, or the Devil, I don't know, but when you reach the Gate there's something there that asks you for the trade."_

_"Equivalent exchange?" Luther clarified._

_"Shut the fuck up and listen, Luther!" Ed snapped. "I'm trying to answer your stupid fucking question…Anyway, you make the trade and then whatever happens, happens. If you go through the Gate you end up in the other world, but you must pay a price to cross, and it better be perfectly equal, or bad things will happen…things you'll spend the rest of your life regretting."_

_"What did you exchange, Herr Elric?" _

_"I don't want to talk about this." Herr Elric muttered._

_"Just one more question, Herr Elric."_

_"Fine." the man with golden eyes groaned._

_"The first time you saw the Gate you did not go through. You went back to your world. What happened to you after you came out?"_

_"Nothing much, really. I knew a lot more about alchemy than I did before." Herr Elric replied. "And I was able to bypass the circle."_

_"Sir?" _

_"All alchemists need to use a transmutation circle. It is the principle of unity. One is all. All is one. Without a circle, the alchemy won't work, but after I saw the Gate, I didn't need to draw a circle anymore. All I had to do was clap my hands…"_

* * *

Human transmutation.

The only form of alchemy that opened the Gate.

Luther Austerlitz wasn't an alchemist and so he didn't know if he was performing the practice correctly, but he did everything Herr Elric had described. He clapped his hands, he had six human bodies and human blood in the transmutation circle, he had his mind set on using the bodies as material, and he focused on getting back to the Gate.

The circle glowed silver.

It had activated!

Luther barely heard the outraged cries of the two officers as they raced to reach Fraulein Winry, but it was too late. Luther let out a crazed laugh, relief flooding through his body that he had completed his mission.

There was just one more thing to do.

It could have been moments, it could have been hours, but Luther, Winry and the bodies of the SS soldiers were soon suspended in a strange white emptiness, a large black door standing before them.

"What is this?" Winry whispered, her voice trembling with fear. "Luther, you bastard, what have you done?"

"I am getting you to Herr Elric." he sputtered, the life he had desperately clung to now draining away from him with great speed.

"Oh, you again." a small child's voice echoed throughout the emptiness. Squeaking in surprise, Winry looked around furiously before her blue eyes fell upon the strangest figure she had ever seen.

It looked like a human child, but it had no features, no face or hair. It was naked, but it had no genitals to determine its sex. It was like a shadow made of light, and it was approaching the pair with a bored swagger.

"I knew I'd see you again, but I didn't think you'd be bringing a friend. Is she your trade?" the thing asked.

"No." Luther gasped. "I am hers."

"Oh really?!" the figure asked, its voice suddenly filled with delighted intrigue.

"Yes." Luther answered. "My life for hers, that's fair, isn't it? I want her to go through the Gate."

"Hmm…sacrificing yourself for the sake of a woman you don't really know…you humans are very strange. I've never had anyone make such selfless sacrifice."

"But Herr Elric…" Luther began.

"Edward Elric is a selfish brat who thought to tread on the toes of the gods. He and his brother got what they deserved."

"So a ten year old boy deserves to loose his arm and leg? A child deserves to loose their whole body?!" Winry cried, advancing on the mysterious being, her anger at the injustice of the Elrics lives overriding her common sense to be afraid of the powerful creature.

"They wanted power that was not theirs to have!" the being bellowed, causing Winry to take a few cautious steps back. "Those that die are never meant to be brought back. Their mother was not meant to return, and when Alphonse Elric's body came to me, it should have never been torn apart…a body without a soul is the most degenerate form of existence. Alphonse would have been better off if his brother had let him go. And even when he found a way to bring his brother back he expected to be able to do it without consequence! What a fool! Everything is equivalent exchange! Everything has a price. It was selfish of Edward Elric to want his brother whole again when he should have let him die that night. But not Edward Elric. Only when he made his brother whole did Edward realize what he had done…it was still out of selfish wishes, that he sacrificed himself to return Alphonse to his body."

"What are you?" Winry asked with disgusted awe.

"I am many things…Edward called me Truth."

"And do you think that humans as selfish creatures is an absolute truth?" Winry continued.

"Of course. You are here because you want to see the Elric brothers again. He has brought you here because he wants to make up for sins he cannot correct. You are here because you want."

Winry didn't know how to respond to that.

After all, Truth was right.

"The trade? My life for her passage through the Gate…will you accept it?" Luther gurgled, his death eminent.

"I suppose so." Truth drawled as it looked over Luther's broken body. "You have some things to tell her. Make it quick."

Truth walked away from the pair and began to play with the body parts of the four SS soldiers, causing Winry to nearly gag at the scene.

"Winry." Luther called. Torn out away from the gruesome scene, Winry looked at Luther, her eyes filling with tears of sorrow and fear.

"You're not going to make me do this alone!" she demanded.

"I apologize, Fraulein, but it was always my intention to trade my life for yours."

"You bastard!" Winry cried, once again over come with the urge to beat the man with her wrench. "How could you do this?! I can't do it alone!"

"Yes you can, Fraulein. You only have to get to the safe house and you won't be alone anymore." Luther assured steadily.

"How…"

"Listen to me." Luther begged. "As soon as you emerge from the Gate you will be in an outdoor courtyard. Look quickly and find the archway that leads to the forest. When you do, pull the pin and throw the grenade in the opposite direction and run. Run like you are running to Herr Elric. Don't stop, just run. Run into the forest and when you reach the stream go left and keep running. It will not take you long, a few minutes perhaps, but you will find a clearing where the stream will open into a river and you will see a mill. Go there, knock on the door, show them the watch and they will keep you safe."

"Mr. Austerlitz…"

"You still have Herr Elric's watch, don't you, Fraulein?" Luther asked, his brown eyes becoming glassy. Winry clutched at the watch in her pocket.

"Yes…" she whispered, and those were the last words Luther Austerlitz would ever hear. His body went limp, his head fell to the side and his gurgled breathing stopped. In his last moment, Luther thought he saw his brother, his red hair and sparkling brown eyes smiling at him, arms open in a welcome embrace. Luther smiled.

"Forgive me, Ulrich."

Those were his last words.

Winry cried hard and long, wailing over the loss of the man who had given her the chance to be with Edward and Alphonse.

She was alone again, terrified and unsure and trapped in a white nothingness with a being that was playing with a severed hand.

She was going to be sick.

"Oh, he died, then?" Truth asked, throwing the hand aside and coming to stand by Winry as she closed Luther's eyes. "Well, I guess it's time."

Before Winry could ask what Truth meant, the large black doors slowly opened, a thousand tiny arms shooting out and grabbing Luther before pulling him into the darkness, a million tiny eyes witnessing the whole event.

"Is that the Gate?" Winry asked with disgust.

"Yes." Truth answered.

"Where have they taken Mr. Austerlitz?"

"You don't need to know that. The Gate has just accepted his exchange. Now, I would hold on to that satchel of yours, Winry Rockbell. And when you see Edward Elric again, tell him I say 'hello'."

The large toothy grin that Truth flashed at Winry made her skin crawl, distracting her so that she never saw the black arms come out of the Gate for her. They wrapped around her body like rope and pulled her in, ignoring the young woman's cry of fear, taking her to the other side with great force and little care.

* * *

_So, what do you think?_

_Truth is a real SOB, isn't it, but then again, aren't all omnicient beings?_

_Anyway, I would really like to know what everyone thinks about this chapter, so please review!_

_No flames, please and thank you!_

**Giant Nickel**


	5. Familiar Faces

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its amenities._

**A/N:**_ So here it is, the beginning of Winry's adventure into our world. Just to clear up a few things, if any of you were worried about Roy and Riza from the last chapter, don't fear, they were not hurt as they were too far away when the grenade went off. Also, some of you will notice that in Amestris it is May while in Germany it's September. I figured that since the years between the two worlds didn't coencide (in the moive, it's 1918 in Amestris while in Germany it's 1923) why should the months or seasons? So, when Winry falls into Germany it will be September simply because I deem it so._

_Once more, there is a little bit of gore in the first part of this chapter, so beware. _

_Also, if you were hoping for Winry to meet up with Ed and Al right away, then you're going to be disappointed. Although the Elric brothers don't make their grand debut in this chapter, you will find out who Luther's contacts were._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Familiar Faces**

_The Gate_

_***_

Winry kept her eyes closed the entire time she fell through the Gate.

She didn't want to see those…_things_.

But even with her eyes closed, images flashed through Winry's mind faster than she could comprehend. She knew she was learning, seeing what Ed and Al and Mr. Austerlitz had seen when they careened through the strange portal known as the Gate. Mostly, Winry saw images from her life, but she saw other things…people and histories and subjects, some of which she'd never heard of, ran through her mind, making her head feel as if it would explode with all of the information.

Then things began to clear, and Winry saw images, as if looking through a screen, of a dark courtyard with long green grass and stone walls all around the land. There was an archway with a forest directly beyond it. As if she was running with a speed impossible for a human being to achieve, the images pushed forward and led Winry to the river. Turning left, and going up a slight incline, Winry was able to see where the river began to widen into a stream, and when the brush cleared, she saw the mill, its lazy waterwheel turning in the current.

Just as quickly as one could blink, the images were gone, tucked away in Winry's unconscious as other images began to flash by her. But Winry clung to those visions of the courtyard and the forest and the river and the mill. The Gate was telling her what to look for…how to follow Luther's final instructions.

It was as if she was being pushed in every direction, like those strange black arms were trying to tear her apart. She clung to her toolbox, keeping it secured against her chest as she seemed to fall forever.

She also held onto the grenade, the palm-sized bomb gripped tightly in her left hand.

When she dared to crack open an eye, she saw blinding white light.

And instinctively, she knew.

This was it.

She was going to come out of the Gate.

Holding her breath, Winry tensed her body, prepared to make an ungraceful landing as the arms pushed her out of their realm and into the strange new world that Mr. Austerlitz had called Germany…

* * *

_Germany_

_21. Sept. 28_

***

Winry's body burned when she fell onto the unforgiving stone platform. She was stunned, but only for a moment. Quickly regaining her footing, Winry found herself outside in the middle of courtyard with a castle just behind her. Though the stone structure was obviously a ruin, the telltale lanterns and fires that flickered in the windows betrayed the fact that people lived in the old stone fortress.

She was standing on a marble dais, a transmutation circle engraved into the stone, blood and one hundred little bodies surrounding the circle.

It was even worse than she could have imagined.

The stench was horrible!

The babies that had been used as the human sacrifice were so small they almost looked like dolls, but Winry could see where their flesh was beginning to decompose. In all of the bodies, bullet wounds were crusted with dried blood and the flies were already drawn to the open sores.

This time, Winry did vomit.

"Intruder!" someone yelled, the male voice followed by the sounds of rushing bodies, cocking guns and the clicks of several torches being turned on.

She had to run.

"Stop!" several of the soldiers in black yelled as Winry made a mad dash for the archway in the stone wall that was directly in front of her.

"Did she come from the Gate?" someone yelled.

"Where is the unit?" cried another.

"She is from Shamballa!"

"Don't let her get away!"

Winry tuned out all of the screaming that followed her, her entire focus on that archway to freedom. She had only taken a few hurried steps when she remembered the grenade in her left hand and Luther's instructions about pulling the pin.

She did.

Before she could throw it however, the soldiers in black began to shoot, their bullets flying past Winry with fiery, dangerous accuracy. She didn't know if they were aiming to kill or to impede her escape, but she didn't care. She just ran. One of those bullets, however, didn't miss, tearing a hot trail along the side of the young woman's upper left arm. Winry swallowed the cry of pain and dropped the grenade in her shock of being hit.

She ran faster.

"Do not hit her!" someone bellowed, his voice rough and angry, but Winry didn't turn back to see who the man was. He was one of the men in the black uniforms and Winry wasn't going to let them take her.

It was only a few seconds after she had dropped the little bomb in the courtyard that it detonated, dirt and grass blowing up into the air and mingling with the shrapnel as it uncaringly tore into the eyes and faces of the soldiers chasing her. Winry was blown through the archway, a small shower of stone and debris following her. She landed roughly on her hands and knees but without pausing for a moment, Winry was up on her feet, her toolbox slung securely over her shoulder, and she ran.

Winry didn't think she could stop if she wanted to. All she could see was Truth and Luther's final gasp of life and those dead children piled on top of each other…she just ran.

She had to get away.

The Gate had shown her the way to safety, and without even realizing it, Winry was at the stream and turning left, her feet taking her over dirt and rocks. She tripped over several roots, and the bullet graze burned and made her whole body feel as if it was on fire, but Winry didn't notice. Her mind was focused on getting to that mill and finding the people who knew Ed and Al.

She knew that she was bleeding, her blood trickling down her arm and staining her red coat, matching the color of the blood red leaves of autumn.

'_When did it become autumn?_' Winry wondered, her mind and body on two completely different plains. She knew what was happening, knew but couldn't stop it.

She was going into shock.

'_I'll worry about that when I get to the mill._'

Her heavy toolbox bumped her back painfully as she started to go up the incline, and when she tripped over another root, Winry began to pull herself on all fours, her fingers digging into the dirt and grass as she used her arms to pull herself forward, her legs still pressing onward with adrenaline-induced urgency. She couldn't tell if the soldiers in black were behind her, but she thought she could hear the pounding of their leather boots.

'_Or is that my own heart?_'

She reached the top of the incline, still close to the bank of the stream. When she looked down the tiny hill, Winry spotted the mill, just as it had been in her vision in the Gate. With all of the desperation left in her exhausted and aching body, Winry rushed forward, using the momentum that the slight hill provided to increase her speed. She almost fell into the river twice, clinging too close to the bank, and she realized that her left arm had gone dead at her side due to the burning pain of the bullet graze, but all Winry could think was '_Almost there. Almost there. Almost there!_'

She crashed into the solid wooden door, bumping her head. She saw stars in her vision, but she would worry about that later. With violently shaking hands, Winry dug into her pocket for the silver pocket watch that was her only indication that she was a friend of Ed's and needed help. Gripping the timepiece as if it was her only connection to the world, Winry pounded on the mill door, not even aware that she was screaming to be let in.

The door was pulled open with a violent thrust and Winry froze.

Her jaw began to quiver, her eyes became wide with horrific surprise and her whole body began to shake.

It was _him_.

She would never forget his face, it was engraved into her memory like a photograph. His square stature, sharp features, thick dark hair that always misbehaved by falling into spiky disarray and that ridiculous cowlick that suggested at his boyish charm. Those same glasses, rectangular frames that perfectly accented his eyes…grey eyes that always watched and analyzed, always suspicious but which also radiated a warm glow of concern and caring. His mouth, twisted with anger at the moment, would always take on a knowing smirk in the depths of Winry's memory.

And those damned whiskers on that cockily tilt chin…

It was Maes Hughes.

But this wasn't right! Maes Hughes was dead. Winry had seen his grave, mourned over him, spoke to his family about the tragedy of his murder.

How could he be alive?

That was Winry's last thought before she fainted, the silver pocket watch still held tightly in her hand.

* * *

"Darling, who is it?" Gracia Hughes asked as she joined her husband at the door. "All of that noise woke up Elicia."

Maes turned around to find his wife holding their fussing two year old daughter, her hair unkempt from her disturbed sleep.

"Just stay back, Gracia." Maes warned softly as he stepped out of the door and over Winry's body.

"Oh my God! Maes! She's just a young girl!" Gracia cried. "Is she alright?"  
"She fainted." Maes said as he looked over the blond woman's body. "She's been shot, too." he commented, finding the bullet graze on her left arm. "Still bleeding pretty bad."

"But who is she?" Gracia asked, bouncing her infant daughter in her arms.

Maes didn't answer, his sharp grey eyes looking the young woman over from head to toe. She didn't seem to be dangerous, but then again, every good spy had a way of appearing like an innocent flower when they were actually the viper that crept under the weeds. Could this girl be from the castle? Perhaps she worked for Commander Kluge? She did slightly resemble the Commander's secretary, Lieutenant Eaglewing. Perhaps there was a relation? Until he was certain, he couldn't risk taking this girl into his home and possibly upsetting his family.

He could hear the dogs and the soldiers tracking through the forest.

Soon, they would reach the mill.

"Look Maes!" Gracia exclaimed, stepping out of the house.

"Gracia! I told you to stay inside. Can't you hear the SS? I can already see their lights. They'll be here soon."

"But look!' Gracia insisted, pointing at the object clutched in the strange woman's right hand. Growling lowly, Maes did as his wife asked and saw the telltale glimmer of a familiar looking pocket watch. Struggling to pry it from the woman's grasp, Maes took the watch and opened it to discover the message hidden inside.

Ed's message.

Luther's watch.

"Could this be…"

"Maes, do think _she's_ who Luther went after. Did she come from Shamballa?" Gracia wondered.

"Well, it's Luther's watch, and his message did say he was going to be bringing something back from Ed's world. I suppose…"

"Hurry and get her inside." Gracia instructed.

"But darling…" Maes whined, still unsure if it was wise to shelter this strange woman.

"They're coming for her, Maes. We can't let her be taken! Put her in the extra bedroom. We have to hurry, the soldiers will be here soon."

"But where do you think Luther…"

"Hurry!"

And with that, Gracia rushed back inside of the mill, Elicia having fallen asleep in her mother's arms. Maes grumbled under his breath, unbelieving of how easily his wife had him wrapped around her finger. He would do anything she said, even if he thought it was dangerous.

Taking the unconscious woman into his arms, Maes lifted her, jolted when he realized that the weight of the satchel that the woman wore was extremely heavy. He put her back down, undid the piece of luggage and peered inside.

"Tools?" he asked the night sky, before shaking his head. There would be time to ask questions later. Quickly stashing the strange toolbox under a trapdoor, Maes once again lifted the woman into his arms and headed for the spare bedroom.

Gracia had already started a fire and she had thrown some foul smelling herbs into the flames, letting their scent settle and permeate the room.

"I have a plan for when the soldiers come." Gracia said without really explaining. "Put her on the bed then go back to main room and try and pretend you're not waiting for a unit of Nazis to show up on the doorstep."

"Gracia…"

"Just go!"

And with that, Maes was banished to the main room where he and his wife had been engaged in a game of cards before they were interrupted by the girl banging like an insane ghost upon their door. Settling into the chair, Maes tried to relax his body and waited. The Nazis would come eventually, the barks of the dogs were getting closer, and Maes took a moment to reflect on just how much his life had changed in five very short years.

He felt foolish to admit that he had been taken in by the ideals of the Nazi party, but he was a young officer full of anger and frustration at the injustice of the Versailles Treaty and the degradation of his homeland. He had a need to act and fight and pave the way for change and progress. He had believed in Adolf Hitler's ideology and wanted to be a part of history.

If not for Edward Elric, Maes didn't doubt that he would be one of those men in black searching for the blond woman.

He had been so stupid.

After seeing what had been done to Alfons…poor innocent Alfons Heiderich, Maes realized that he had to reprioritize what was important in his life.

He had gone to see Gracia shortly after Alfons's funeral, and asked her to marry him one month later. He nearly had a heart attack when she said yes. After years of pining for the pretty flower vendor, Maes thought he was dreaming when he was suddenly waiting for her at the end of an alter, her simple white gown and lace veil making her seem like a vision.

Edward had stood with him.

Although he had achieved his heart's most burning desire, Maes was also filled with a renewed sense of honor. He still wanted to help, and after witnessing the cruelty and true agenda of the Nazi party, Maes went to Edward and his brother Alphonse (who looked identical to the deceased Alfons) and asked them what he could do.

The Elric brothers told him crazy things, but in the end, Maes believed them.

When the truth was finally out in the open between the three men, Maes and Edward began to plan. Since Maes was still considered a party member, he was to continue to go to meetings and rallies and keep up with the secrets surrounding the Nazi party. It also helped that Maes was a police officer, and therefore could also use the law to the Elric's advantage.

Although he worried for Gracia and often left her to complete his own missions, once she became pregnant, Maes was loathe to leave her side, ecstatic at the thought of becoming a father despite the times they were in. After all, Germany was suffering an economic depression. Edward saw Maes's reluctance and offered him a more permanent, stable position.

The paperwork was taken care of before Gracia gave birth. Maes was reassigned to the Magdeburg police force, his homestead the lazy mill just outside of town and not too close to stronghold of Commander Kluge and his SS unit. Although Maes didn't understand at first, Edward was terribly antagonistic towards Commander Kluge. While Maes agreed that the man was a sadistic bastard, he wasn't completely clear on just why Edward had singled out this particular Nazi officer. Even Edward's younger brother tried to soothe the man's paranoia about Kluge, but Edward would not budge.

Now that it seemed Kluge had ordered his men into Shamballa, the world where Edward and Alphonse came from, Maes was starting to understand Edward's deep loathing for the man.

Especially if that girl was involved.

Having lost himself to his musings, Maes was genuinely surprised when there was a knock at his door. He was even more surprised that Gracia had returned to sit across from him, Elicia nowhere in sight.

"Best get that, darling." Gracia said with soft urging. It amazed Maes that his wife could always be so calm and composed despite the potential for danger, but nevertheless, he got to his feet and opened the door.

There were two SS soldiers and one dog waiting for him.

"Good even, Herr Hughes." one of the men greeted with solemn politeness. They knew Maes was not only an officer, but also a brother in the Nazi party. He was to be treated with respect.

"Good evening. May I help you?" Maes asked with comfortable ease.

"We apologize for the lateness of this call, Herr Hughes, but we must search your house. A prisoner has escaped from our fortress and may have come to seek shelter here."

"Well…" Maes chuckled, " I think my wife and I would have noticed if someone tried to use our house as a hiding place."

"It's Commander Kluge's orders, sir."

"Let them in, Maes." Gracia said softly as she took her husband's arm and pulled him away from the doorframe. "Just please keep the dog outside. Our daughter has finally fallen asleep. I wouldn't like her rest to be disturbed."

"Of course." the elder of the two soldiers said and instructed his partner to remain outside with the large brown dog. Ever the hospitable hostess, Gracia led the officer inside, offered him a warm cup of tea, which he refused, and proceeded to show him all around the mill. Maes followed dutifully behind them.

"Your daughter grows more and more like her mother each day." the officer complimented after he had quickly checked the nursery. "And she is the only one in the house besides you two?"

"No." Gracia admitted, startling Maes. He almost asked something in his surprise, but Gracia quickly answered the officer's query. "My nephew, Klaus, has been visiting. He's been helping with chores since our Elicia has become such a handful. Would you like to see his room as well?"

"Yes." the officer said firmly, completely conned by Gracia Hughes's innocent explanation.

Gracia smiled softly and led the officer to the spare bedroom. Opening the door, the pungent smell of the herbs Gracia had placed into the fire earlier nearly knocked the SS soldier over in their intensity.

"Fraulein, Hughes?" the man asked.

"I'm sorry, sir. Klaus has been very ill the last few days with a terrible fever and cough. The herbs are strong, but they clear his lungs and help him to sleep." Gracia explained comfortably. Placing a cloth over his nose, the soldier quickly went into the room, took a short look at the person bundled in the bed, noticed the heavy woolen cap over the person's head and the sickly pallor of the their skin before the fumes began to overwhelm him and he stormed out of the chamber.

Still apologizing for the stench of the herbs, Gracia showed the rest of her house to the inspecting officer, who was starting to feel nauseous due to the putrid smell which seemed to be trapped in his nose. He barely looked over the other rooms, offered the couple a hurried thanks for allowing his inspection without complaint, and left with his companion and their dog, a handkerchief still pressed against his face.

"Quickly." Gracia instructed as soon as the men were out of sight. The pair doused the fire in the extra bedroom and opened the windows to let fresh air overcome the sickening fumes.

"Gracia, you're brilliant!" Maes praised as he pressed a hard kiss to his wife's mouth. "Where did you put her clothes?"

"I shoved them under the bed." Gracia explained as she removed the cap from the young woman's head and let her beautiful blond hair fall free.

"I'm still not sure about her." Maes said uneasily.

"Well, we won't know anything until she wakes up, will we?" Gracia reasoned. "But she did have Luther's watch. The message he sent said that Kluge's men had discovered something very precious to Edward and that they were going to Shamballa to retrieve it. I never suspected it would be a person."

"I never thought it would be a girl." Maes said with a hint of cockiness. Gracia shot her husband an agreeing look.

"It would explain why Edward has never shown much interest in the girls here. I mean, if she is his most precious person and she was on the other side, no wonder Edward has been so cold. His sweetheart was unreachable."

Gracia sighed as she spoke her thoughts aloud, pulling the sheets down to reveal that she had changed the blond woman into a sleeveless evening shift.

"Fetch my sewing kit and some rubbing alcohol, Maes. I'll have to stitch up this wound."

With the aid of an oil lamp and the fresh fire he had started, Maes was able to make out the bleeding graze that cut across the woman's arm, noting that the blood was starting to clot.

He did what his wife asked, grimacing as he watched her sew the puckered skin together. When that task was done, Gracia ran her hands through the young woman's pretty hair, tucked her in and stood up to leave.

"We can't do anything until she wakes up, darling."

"I know." Maes answered. A long silence settled over the couple. Gracia didn't ask and Maes didn't explain himself. They knew what the other wanted to know without saying the words. With a soft sigh, Gracia left the room and closed the door behind her. Maes didn't look back. He made himself comfortable on a stool at the foot of the bed, watching as the young woman breathed deeply, lost in her dreams or nightmares.

He kept his gun cocked the whole night.

* * *

_Germany_

_22. Sept. 28_

***

Winry sighed as she awoke from her deep sleep, feeling as if she was recovering from a lulling drug that caused her body to feel like lead and her mouth to taste as if it was full of cotton. She saw that the sun was shining into the room and heard the crackling of a welcome fire. That's when she remembered she had fainted.

Sitting up with panicked terror, Winry nearly fell out of the bed she was in when she spotted that man – that man that _couldn't_ be Maes Hughes – sitting at the foot of her bed.

"Good afternoon." he greeted, elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced and his chin resting comfortably on top of his hands. While his voice held a teasing note, his grim frown and intense grey eyes said otherwise.

Winry pulled the blankets up to her chest and pressed her back against the wall.

Although she tried not to, she began to shake.

"Please don't be frightened." Maes said.

"You're…y-you're...you're _dead_." Winry said, shaking her head roughly back and forth. "You're dead!"

"Well obviously I'm not…"

"I died in the Gate, didn't I? Or those soldiers, they shot me, they didn't just graze my – AH!"

Winry looked down to where her right hand gripped her left arm. There was a clean bandage over her skin and she could feel the outline of stitches through the dressing. The shock of realizing that she had been grazed seemed to bring a semblance of calm over the young woman and she looked at Maes with large questioning eyes.

"I'm on the other side, aren't I?" she asked.

"Yes, if you come from Shamballa." Maes answered. "You're from Ed's world, aren't you?"

"Yes, and so are you…at least…he looked so much like you…"

"I know. Edward and Alphonse told me about the other Maes Hughes, the one they knew in the army in Shamballa. Edward has a theory that for each person in his world there is a doppelganger in this one."

"So, somewhere in this world, there's a girl just like me?" Winry asked, trying hard to believe the unbelievable.

"I suppose so, though I've never met her." Maes commented. "My name _is_ Maes Hughes, by the way."

Winry closed her eyes as she tried to control her trembling body. It was hard enough to accept that he had the same face, but now he had the same name…

"I'm Winry Rockbell." she said softly.

"And it's wonderful to meet you, Winry." a new voice said. Looking up, Winry could feel her heart beating unnaturally as she saw Gracia Hughes enter the bedroom, a tray of food in her hands. "I thought you might be hungry, and I'll need to take a look at your stitches…"

"You took care of my wound?" Winry asked. "Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for Ed's precious person."

"Gracia!" Maes exclaimed, slamming a hand to his forehead as his wife ignored him and sat on the edge of the bed, placing the tray of food beside Winry. While Winry tried to grasp at the new reality that seemed so much like her old one, she decided that she needed to see the men she came after in order to bring some sanity to the situation.

"I'm sorry for being so blunt, but where are Ed and Al? Can I see them?" Winry asked, wanting desperately to be with her friends again. As long as she was with Ed and Al then this world would make sense. Seeing familiar faces of people that were so much like the ones she had left behind yet completely separated from them was starting to make the young woman's head hurt. This sort of strange phenomenon was better left to the alchemists.

"Actually, Miss Rockbell, we don't know where Edward and Alphonse are." Gracia said calmly.

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, but the Elric brothers haven't contacted us for over a month."

"Before we start telling her everything, Gracia, maybe we should ask her where Luther is and why she has his watch." Maes said arrogantly.

His words cut.

"Mr. Austerlitz is dead." Winry mumbled, her chin dropping into her chest.

"Oh dear…" Gracia gasped.

"He killed some of those men that were sent after me and the others were trapped on my side. When we got to the Gate…well, he had to make a trade…it was his life for mine…I'm sorry…"

"Now, you have nothing to be sorry for, Miss Rockbell." Gracia insisted. "Here. A strong cup of coffee will help."

Feeling as if she was being comforted by her own mother, Winry accepted Gracia's presence and even took a few short sips of the bitter coffee. Gracia's calm grace and soft voice were enough to make Winry's heartbeat slow and her nerves to cease their quaking.

"Can't you tell me anything about Ed and Al?" Winry asked.

"And how do we know you're not just one of Kluge's spies?" Maes asked heatedly, ignoring the exasperated look his wife threw at him. Winry gulped, recalling how the Maes Hughes she knew could be such an easygoing man, but he was also a soldier, steely and dangerous.

It appeared that this Maes Hughes was the same.

"I've known Ed and Al all my life. I grew up with them, and when they tried to bring their mother back I helped them. I built Ed's automail and stayed up with Al all night so he wouldn't be lonely because he couldn't sleep, and when they went off to join my country's military I waited." Winry said passionately, not caring that the two adults before her might not understand what she was talking about. However, the hard look in Maes's eyes told Winry that he did believe every word she said.

"Just tell me something that only a few people would know about Edward or Alphonse, and I'll believe you." he said evenly.

Winry only thought for a moment before speaking.

"You've seen Ed's automail?" she asked. Both nodded. "I know that Ed often hides it, so only a few people would know this. There is a marking on the back of his shoulder and on the bottom of his heel. It's a brand, a bell shape with a flare of ribbon that surrounds it. The initials 'WR' are inside of that symbol. That's my brand."

Winry watched as the cold intensity in Maes's eyes shifted into cautious acceptance, his relaxed features causing little crinkles to appear around the corners of his eyes. Winry cocked her head and smiled softly. The Maes Hughes she remembered didn't have crow's feet.

"Don't worry, Winry. We'll get you to Edward. After all, if Commander Kluge believes you are important to Ed he won't stop searching until he finds you." Gracia said.

"Who is Commander Kluge? What does he want with Ed?" Winry asked.

"Commander Kluge is one of Adolf Hitler's top generals." Maes said. "He's been stationed in that ruin of a castle for the last year and he only has one mission: find the uranium bomb that Edward Elric stole and hid."

"You knew about Ed's captivity?" Winry asked.

"If I had known he was in that prison I would have broken him out myself. It's a good thing Luther listened to Edward and became a valuable ally in his network. If not for Luther, Edward might have never gotten out…He'll be sorry to hear Luther's died."

"Yes." Winry agreed now helping herself to the porridge Gracia had prepared while the older woman applied salve to her wound.

"Luther was exceptionally loyal, to the point of obsession! He was caught sending intelligence on a truck shipment of German artillery to another contact. We were lucky he was able to diverge all blame and attention onto himself, but then Kluge took him prisoner and began to torture information out of him. Gracia and I don't know much, but the last missive we received from Luther was through a carrier pigeon. It just said that he had escaped, that Kluge was sending men to Shamballa to retrieve an important treasure of Edward's, and that he was going after them."

"You're that important treasure, Miss Rockbell." Gracia commented breathily, applying a fresh dressing over the stitches.

"I hardly think I'm that." Winry said shyly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Gracia only smiled knowingly before standing up.

"Now you finish that porridge and those biscuits. I'll be back after I've feed Elicia."

"Elicia's here?" Winry asked with sparkles of hope in her eyes. Gracia and Maes exchanged surprised glances, they smiled at their strange houseguest.

"She's so talented and just adorable, just like her mother. It's amazing! Only two years old and she has me completely wrapped around her little finger. Do you want to see some photographs?"

"Maes, let the girl rest!" Gracia laughed. "You can show her the photographs another time."

"But I would like to see them." Winry offered, surprising herself when she realized how much she had missed the obsessively gushing Hughes.

"Oh great!"

"Mr. Hughes?" Winry asked, never thinking she would ever say that name again. "If you haven't heard from Ed and Al in so long, how are we going to find them?"

Maes's posture became stiff and strong, the stance of a soldier. He looked down at the young woman in the bed, his grey eyes clear and focused behind those rectangular frames. He jutted his chin out with cocky arrogance and smirked.

"I promise, Miss Rockbell, I'll find Edward and Alphonse, and I'll bring you back to them."

* * *

"Are you feeling better?" Gracia asked, watching with kind eyes as Winry held little Elicia in her lap. It seemed that holding the child brought a total calm over the woman from Shamballa and Gracia eagerly offered any comfort she could. Besides, it seemed that Elicia liked Miss Rockbell enough, cooing and clapping as she played with her toy dolls.

"It's going to take time, getting used to this world." Winry admitted as she braided Elicia's hair. "It will be easier when I'm with Ed and Al again…I'm just still so stunned. You're just like the Gracia Hughes I know, but yet you're not her…it's still confusing."

"I can only imagine." Gracia sighed. "How does your arm feel?"

"It doesn't burn. The salve you put on really helps the irritation, but my whole arm feels swollen and achy." Winry admitted.

"That's to be expected. The stitches will have to stay in for some time, at least a week."

"Don't worry. I'm a doctor back home, so I'll be able to take them out when the time comes." Winry said.

"A doctor?" Gracia exclaimed.

"Yes." Winry answered. "And a mechanic. I have to be both to be an automail engineer."

"That's just amazing." Gracia complimented. "Oh Elicia, don't you look lovely!"

"Momma!" the child cried happily, her chubby hands reaching up to touch the perfectly coiffed tendrils of light brown. "Pretty!"

"Very pretty!" Gracia agreed. Winry smiled shyly and watched with a small sense of loss as the child climbed over to her mother and sat in the woman's lap.

"She looks just like you." Winry said. "In my world, Elicia is already eleven years old."

"Well," Gracia sighed, "I suspect the Maes Hughes that you knew was a little quicker in asking me to marry him."

Both woman laughed, and Winry felt as if some great weight had been lifted off of her heart. After all of the horrible things she had seen not so long ago, she felt safe. Winry knew that it would be a long time before the images of those babies, babies so much like Elicia, and the blood and Truth would ever leave her, but for the moment, they were locked away in her memories, leaving her to bask in the peaceful afternoon with a woman who had shown her so much kindness and care.

"So Mr. Hughes is a police officer?" Winry asked.

"Yes. He takes his job very seriously. He won't return until later tonight since he spent the morning watching over you."

"He doesn't seem to like me too much." Winry said shyly.

"Oh, that's just Maes. Now that he has me and Elicia to protect, he's suspicious of everybody. Until he was certain you weren't a threat to his family, he would have sat by your beside for a week. But men can be like that, can't they? Overprotective, I mean."

Winry just nodded, thinking of Ed and Al and what Luther had told her of their misguided attempts at protecting her. Rather than embrace her like the lifelong friend she was, Ed and Al had become cold and distant, never letting her in on their troubles or allowing her to help in anything more than a professional capacity.

It had hurt.

It still hurt.

"I still can't believe that you are Edward's precious secret." Gracia exclaimed. "Edward is always so shy around women that I never thought it might be because he had a sweetheart somewhere."

"Ed and I aren't sweethearts." Winry said quickly, feeling a desperate need to correct the woman.

Gracia just smiled and slanted her eyes at Winry in the same rueful way she did towards her husband.

"I mean, it's not that I don't care about him. I care about him and Al both."

"But you care about Edward differently." Gracia offered. Winry clamped her lips together and lowered her gaze, her fingers tugging gently on the loose threads of the blanket over her lap. She took a long moment of contemplation before raising her eyes to meet Gracia's. The kind woman was still sitting by her bedside, waiting patiently.

"I think I've loved Ed for a long time." Winry admitted quietly. "But he left. First for one year to train, then four working for the military, he was in this world for two years before coming back for a few short hours, and when he left that last time, I thought it was for good. And now, it's been five years. I'm the closest I've ever been to Ed in five years…and I don't know how I feel anymore. I don't know the man he's become…but I think I still love him…I'm just so angry…"

Gracia placed a gentle hand on Winry's shoulder, offering the confused woman a sympathetic expression. Stroking Winry's hair, Gracia spoke softly.

"I think that's to be expected."

Winry just nodded and leaned into the woman's touch, wondering how long it had been since she'd been comforted so thoroughly by another human being.

She had been alone too long.

'_When I see you again, Ed, I'm going to hit you with my wrench so hard your kids will have concussions…and then I'm going to kiss you so hard you'll know never to leave me behind again_.'

* * *

_Well folks, that's all she wrote!_

_At least for now._

_And to _**signy33**_: Thank you very much for your encouraging words. Positive feedback is always appreciated and knowing you are really enjoying the story is the greatest reward. _

_Keep the reviews coming and I'll keep the chapters rolling in!_

_No flames, please and thank you!_

**Giant Nickel**


	6. Herr Elric

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters associated with the anime/manga/movie. _

**A/N:**_ So here it is, my Christmas gift to all of my readers. I know you've been waiting for Ed and Al to make an appearance, and so here they are! But even though they've decided to make an appearance, that doesn't mean there aren't some surprises yet to be had._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Herr Elric**

_Germany_

_23. Sept. 28 _

***

"Fuck it's small in here!" Ed grumbled as he moved a shovel so that it wasn't stabbing him in the back. Al just rolled his eyes and readjusted himself on the hard wooden floor of the shed that he and his brother had taken shelter in before the bloody orange rays of dawn awakened the residences of the tiny village they found themselves in.

They couldn't travel during the day, not when they were so close to home. They risked too much if they were seen. Though only few knew their identities, Ed and Al always took extra precautions. After all, the Elric brothers' personal motto was '_just in case_'.

They had been traveling for six weeks, trekking over the land by foot and train and car, hiding out during the day and moving only at night. Though Ed and Al were often crisscrossing all over Germany for one reason or another, this particular time they had been helping a Jewish family of twelve to cross the boarder and make it safely into Switzerland. Traveling with such a large number of the country's undesirables wasn't easy. In fact, Al was sure that there were missions he and Ed had been assigned while working for the Amestrian military that had been easier. But in the end, the rewards were bountiful. The family was now safe in Switzerland and, hopefully, out of the reach of Germany's every increasing bigotry and racial hate.

Although it was not illegal to be Jewish, and certainly soldiers and government officials weren't carting off those of Jewish lineage to be executed, to be a Jew in Germany at the present time was dangerous. With the increasing unhappiness of the German people coupled with false gossip and mislead anger, Jews had become the country's scapegoats, blamed for the depression and dishonor that had been suffered since the end of the Great War. The hate was palpable, easily felt by anyone unlucky enough to be born without blue eyes and blond hair. Ed had witnessed the racism suffered by the Jews, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be different from the 'pure' Arian populace, and had resolved five years ago to do all that he could to help those being persecuted.

Of course, Ed's primary mission had been to locate the uranium bomb. However, in-between recovering the dangerous weapon Edward Elric had also managed to set up a large network of resistence fighters. The resistence was made up of a variety of people, from the aristocratic politician to the simple grocer, and they all had one common goal: to stop the National Socialist German Workers' Party from gaining complete political power in Germany.

The resistance's main objective was to help the Elric brothers in any way possible, which included serving as safe houses for either the Elrics or those they had sent with the pocket watch and message, smuggling any variety of things, including people, in or out of the country, and most importantly, reporting any intelligence on the Nazi party that they discovered.

Ed wasn't stupid. He knew that, given the support, incentive and political standing, the Nazi party would rule Germany with an iron fist, illiminating anyone, Jew or not, who interfered with their 'natural order'. That was why discovering the uranium bomb had been so imperative to Ed. He didn't want anyone, either Nazi or resistence fighter, to have the bomb, and until he learned how to dismantle and destroy it, Ed had hidden the powerful weapon.

That was why Commander Kluge was so determined to get Edward Elric.

'_Fat fucking chance_.' the twenty-three year old thought, even though he had been caught once before. Ed simply chose not to think about his time in the Fortress, the name of Kluge's castle headquarters.

Ed took great pleasure in upsetting Kluge, so much so that the torture hadn't been so terrible when he was able to witness Kluge's veneer crumble and the cool Nazi commander dissolved into a fiery unhinged man who could hardly form a coherent sentence let alone continue an interrogation. Just the memory of Kluge's purple face after Ed had commented that the commander must be using his large ominous castle to compensate for an unfortunately miniscule cock was enough to make the elder Elric burst out in fits of laughter.

But that had been almost a year ago and while Ed had found some enjoyment in teasing Kluge he still had no desire to ever find himself in the man's custody again. He still kept track of him, though, learning the plans of the Nazi commander and foiling them at every chance. Kluge still hadn't discovered the uranium bomb, which was a relief, but at the last safe house that Ed and his brother had stopped at they had learned about the latest of Kluge's plots. It was dangerous and despicable and if a war started…Ed didn't even want to think about it.

He and Al would stop Kluge.

They always did.

Ed kept on grumbling in his tight corner while Al lounged and watched the dust motes lazily dance a flitting ballet through the rays of sunshine that peeked through the shed's poorly constructed roof. It wasn't going to be too long before twilight came now that the equinox had passed, and Al took comfort in the fact that by the coming evening, he and his brother would be home. They would be back in their own little apartment in Berlin, with warm food and clean clothes, soft cushions and hot water…and Noa would be waiting for them.

Smiling to himself at the thought of the dark woman that lived with him and his brother, Al dug into his coat's inner breast pocket and pulled out the crinkled yellow envelope that had his name written in a beautiful curvy scrawl on the front.

He opened the envelope and began to read the letter.

"So, anything interesting?" Ed asked with feigned boredom.

Aware of his brother's keen interest in the contents of the letter, Al pretended to ignore Ed and continued to read in silence. He could feel Ed's narrowed golden eyes boring into him, his gaze becoming more and more agitated with each silent minute that passed by. Al had to hold in a chuckle.

"Al! What the fuck does Noa say?!" Ed demanded.

"Keep it down, brother. I can't read when you're being stupid." Al teased nonchalantly, his rich gold-brown eyes never straying form the words on the paper. "Besides, you keep yelling like that and whoever owns this shed will come snooping around, find us, and turn us in."

"Nobody's going to fucking find us." Ed retorted, crossing his arms behind his head and trying to get comfortable. "So tell me. Anything?"

"Nothing much." Al replied, finally giving into Ed's curiosity. "Most of this stuff doesn't really matter since she sent it to our check point about three weeks ago."

"Doesn't matter. What does she have to report?" Ed pressed.

"The stove broke, but the neighbor upstairs came and fixed it. She just finished reading _Pride and Prejudice_ and has a lot of things to say about it when we finally get back…Oh! She bought a new coat since the weather's starting to get cold…"

"Fuck Al!" Ed roared.

"What?" Al asked in all innocence. "Is there something in _particular_ you want to know about?"

Al didn't bother hiding his laughter as he watched his older brother's face become red with repressed fury. Ed had never liked being teased and especially wouldn't stand being the butt of any joke. When Al had been a soul in a metal suit of armor, he had often gotten away with teasing Ed since the teenager could hardly do any damage to the iron suit. Now that they were both flesh and blood and both young men, Al rarely got away with teasing his brother without getting some sort of punch or kick. The threat of physical violence, however, never deterred the younger Elric from pestering Ed at every chance.

After all, sometimes Ed's indignant fury was the only emotional response Al could get out of him.

Still waiting for Ed to speak, Al was not too surprised when his older brother exhaled loudly and closed his eyes as if pretending to have fallen asleep.

"How are the kids?" Ed grumbled.

Al smirked.

He had won this round.

"Noa says they're fine. Yafit lost a tooth fighting with Ruth. Ruth was punished by having to polish everyone's boots and help with the laundry. Paz helped Mr. Quackenboss fix the stove and was very proud of himself, and…"

"So they're all fine?" Ed asked with an exasperated sigh. Al frowned.

"Yes."

"Good. That's all I wanted to know." Ed said, eyes closed and mouth twisted into an uncaring line.

"You might want to know," Al continued, his normally gentle voice polluted with aggravated bitterness, "that Noa thinks you and I have been gone too long. She says the boys need male influences so that she doesn't have to ask our elderly neighbors, like Mr. Quackenboss, to show them how to use tools and fix a stove."

"Pft! Like I know a thing about using tools. You know that was always…" Ed stopped himself from finishing his sentence, his eyes opening wide as he realized what he had nearly said.

Her name.

Al didn't press Ed. He knew that his brother had been about to mention Winry Rockbell, the girl they had both left behind five years ago when they decided that protecting her was more important than being with her.

Sometimes, Al wondered if they had made a mistake.

Ed certainly regretted their decision.

"You're still thinking about the accident, aren't you?" Al asked, not expecting to receive an answer from his brother.

He didn't.

Al sighed and went back to reading Noa's letter but his eyes no longer saw the pretty Roma's curvy scrawl, his mind wandering no doubt to the same place Ed's was.

They had taken refuge in a safe house the day before, appreciating the risk the elderly couple took by hosting fugitives. Al had immediately sought a hot shower and warm meal. Ed had gone for the newspapers.

Traveling across country for days on end, the Elric brothers often missed what news was happening in the world around them. Since Ed insisted on keeping up to date with country's movement, he always requested that the newspapers be saved by whoever was serving as the brothers' check-point hosts. As soon as Ed and Al were sure the location was secure Ed would grab the first of many newspapers and begin to read with the speed that only a prodigy could possess.

When Al had come out of the shower and told Ed that stew was to be their meal, he had expected his brother to immediately make his way to the kitchen for his serving. He had been surprised when Ed didn't move. In fact, it had seemed that Ed hadn't heard him.

Ever since his captivity in Kluge's Fortress, Ed was often more quiet and restrained, worrying his brother to no end. Concerned that a bad memory had been triggered or that Ed was silently suffering a flashback, Al cautiously approached his brother. He was just about to place a strong hand on Ed's shoulder when he saw the page of the newspaper and the black words halted all of his actions.

'_**FAMILY MEMBERS OF OIL TYCOON KILLED IN TRAIN ACCIDENT**_

_Today at approximately 6:00pm, a train headed from Glasgow_

_to Edinburgh crashed when poor rail conditions caused the_

_steam engine to derail killing all of the 206 passengers _

_aboard. Among the dead are the cousins of American millionaire_

_John D. Rockefeller, including his second cousin,_

_Martin Walter Rockefeller, and Martin's daughter,_

_Wendy._'

The words were unsympathetic and straight to the point, but it wasn't the words that had the brothers so stunned. A picture, no larger than a stamp, was printed alongside the words that described the train accident. It was portrait of Wendy Rockefeller, her face young and slim, a soft smile gracing her features and her hair pulled up into a chignon that tucked neatly under a feathered hat.

Although the print was black and white, Al and Ed knew that Wendy Rockefeller had bright blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.

It was Winry.

Actually, it was Winry's double, the one person in this world that resembled the girl they had known in Amestris. After five years, Ed and Al had gotten used to seeing familiar faces, but they had never found the person who looked like Winry, and as far as Ed was concerned, that was a good thing. He had never known what to do with the real Winry and couldn't fathom how he would react should he meet her doppelganger.

It had soothed Ed, however, to know that his Winry was alive and well, safe from the bastards that had tried to invade his world. He had never spared a great deal of thought for Winry's double, imagining that she too must be safe and happy.

But now, that was all gone.

Winry's double, one Wendy Rockefeller, was dead, killed in a train accident because some lazy asshole didn't clear the tracks properly.

Ed hadn't said anything, neither did Al. They simply sat quietly in the sitting room of their safe house, reading the article over and over again until their hosts wondered why the brothers weren't collecting their stew. They never explained why their ravenous hunger was suddenly quelled, nor did they spare their hosts any explanation when they silently went to bed and left the next morning without instructions or farewells.

They were in mourning.

They knew that the death of Winry's double didn't mean that Winry herself had died. Still, the knowledge that this world was deprived of its Winry, just as Ed and Al had lost their Winry five years ago…

In the end, Ed was still convinced it had been the right decision. Al, however, wasn't so sure.

"Brother, you need to talk about this." Al began.

"No." Ed said firmly.

"But Ed…"

"How about we talk about your psychological issues, Al? Like the fact that you're married to a woman in name only isn't just as fucked up as my problems."

"Ed!" Al snapped, his cheeks glowing pink. "Noa and I…"

"You guys got married but you still haven't laid a hand on her. And I know you want to." Ed growled. "So just do it already! Your woman is here, and you're lucky enough that she agreed to marry you, so get that stick out of your ass and jump her already."

"Don't be so crude, Ed! It's not like that." Al protested.

"You guys sleep in different beds in the _same_ room. That's fucked up." Ed continued, turning away from his brother, arms now crossed over his chest.

Al frown, realizing that he was crinkling Noa's letter in his shaking hands.

He was angry.

He was angry because Ed was right.

When Al had come through the Gate, all of his memories from the years he and Ed had searched for the Philosopher's Stone returned, transforming him from the young alchemist he had been in Amestris into a weathered soldier with a vast, dangerous and blood-soaked history. When Al couldn't recall his life in the suit of armor he had been that same ten year old boy who wanted to bring back his mother with human transmutation. After his memories had returned, Al was suddenly filled with years of memories and information, and although he was physically a twelve year old boy, he most certainly felt like the seventeen year old man that he truly was.

With the mind of a seventeen year old, Al was suddenly besieged with feelings and thoughts that he would have never have contemplated before.

Noa had been the one to bring these feelings about.

She had insisted on traveling with the Elric brothers on their quest for the uranium bomb, saying she needed to redeem herself in Ed's eyes. At the time, Al had accepted that without question or concern. He even liked Noa, having someone to talk to on their long travels when Ed decided to be stoic and silent. Noa was a solemn woman, but she was also sharp and intelligent. She liked to read and knew a great deal about the world from her travels and often she and Al would watch the sun rise and set during the length of their conversations.

It didn't take much time before Al's feelings for Noa began to blossom, his skin becoming clammy, his heart hammering, and mind wandering whenever he found himself in close quarters with her.

He was fifteen when he realized he loved her.

For most young men, first love is thrilling and adventurous and brings about great bursts of courage and bravado.

Not so for Alphonse Elric.

In the three years that he had been with Ed and Noa, Al had noticed a very distinct emotional relationship that existed between his brother and the Roma woman, although Ed himself was oblivious. When Al and Noa stayed up long into the night, Ed was often the topic of conversation and Noa was usually the one doing the talking. She had an urgent need to know just what type of man Edwas, what his childhood had been like, what his favorite foods were, and especially what his travels in Amestris had been like. Al had patiently answered all of Noa's questions and all the while a coil of leaden jealously wound itself in his gut.

Al had never been jealous of Ed.

He had never begrudged Ed's superior talent for alchemy, nor his charm and intellect. He had never once wished that it had been Ed that was a soul stuck in a suit of armor and he the one still in a flesh and blood body, nevermind the automail. He hadn't even been upset when it was obvious that Winry favored Ed romantically and not him. In all ways that Ed was and Al wasn't, the younger Elric had always been proud of his brother and believed with his whole heart that Ed deserved his achievements. But to hear Noa talk about Ed with such reverence and interest…Al became jealous. Ever query, every look and smile that Noa offered to Ed, Al coveted. If he was an aggressive man, Al would have challenged his brother for Noa, beating him into a pulp like a Neanderthal to prove his stamina and strength. In the end, however, it didn't have to come to that at all.

Al had been a few weeks shy of turning seventeen and he was furious.

He, Ed and Noa had just returned by train from Italy when they had been stopped at the German boarder and everyone aboard had been required to show citizenship papers and passports. It did not go unnoticed by those aboard that only those who looked either Jewish or Roma were the ones being asked for documentation. While Noa and the Elrics had forged papers that looked just as authentic as the real ones, the soldiers on the train were not entirely satisfied with Noa's papers, demanding to see a birth certificate or marriage license to prove that she was a German citizen. She had nearly been arrested if not for Ed's quick bribe. The guards accepted the gold pieces from the sly young man and the three companions had been permitted to continue into the country without incident.

It was that night that Al had insisted that Ed marry Noa.

With a marriage license Noa shouldn't have any more trouble with the military or government. She would be safe and that was all Al cared about.

Ed, however, refused to marry Noa, stating that he was not going to commit himself to someone, even if it was in name only, because he didn't want to hurt her.

He didn't love her, and for that alone, he wouldn't marry her.

It was the only time as men that the Elric brothers engaged in a fist fight, Al getting in several good swings before Ed captured his brother in a headlock with his automail arm and threatened to give Al a concussion if he didn't calm down. Al had complied, angry at Ed and the world and himself. That was when Ed had suggested Al marry Noa.

'_After all, you love her, not me._'

Ed made it sound so simple.

Of course, if Ed didn't want to marry Noa than Al was the obvious second choice. But that was just the problem…Al _was_ Noa's second choice.

She loved Ed, she had to with how much she spoke of him. She didn't want Al…she wouldn't want to marry him. That was why Al had suggested Ed. He wanted Noa to be happy and believed she would be happy with his brother. She wouldn't be happy with him. Still, now that the seed had been planted it had to be given a chance to grow. Ed had gone to Noa that same evening, made the suggestion and she had accepted with soft and quiet agreeableness.

While Al would never voice it, he believed that Noa had agreed to the arrangement because it was Ed who had asked her to participate.

They married the day Al turned seventeen.

The ceremony had been simple, Catholic, and attended by a bare minimum of witnesses. Ed had served as best man and gave the bride away, seemingly content with the situation. Al had been a bundle of nerve. He hadn't even kissed Noa properly when the ceremony was over, merely laying a chaste peck on her cheek.

That was seven months ago.

"So," Al sighed, "what are we going to do about that munitions delivery?"

Ed peered at his brother suspiciously, noting the change in subject and debating whether or not to comment, but decided that he hadn't liked where the previous conversation was going in any case and that a change of subject was the better path.

It was better to talk about the mission.

It was always better.

"Well, we need to get the kids out of the country as soon as possible." Ed said, his tone of voice becoming strong and firm. The voice of a leader. "The American family that agreed to take them in is going to be in Paris in ten days. We need to make sure we make that meeting."

"And the munitions truck?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead." Ed admitted. "But it's headed to the same place we are, at the same time we are, so that's lucky."

"Are we going to intercept?" Al asked.

"No…no, I don't think so." Ed stated firmly. This announcement surprised Al and he threw his brother a pointed look.

They _always_ intercepted.

"I want to know where their base is, Al. I want to know where Kluge is sending all those guns and all that food. I want to know what they're planning."

"But Ed, we'll have four kids with us. It's too dangerous!" Al protested.

"We won't do anything until we've dropped the brats off to their new family!" Ed barked. "Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?!"

"Sometimes!" Al yelled back in a fit of uncharacteristic temper.

Al felt his cheeks go hot and knew he was shaking. Lately, it seemed that all Ed ever did was make him angry. It had certainly made their living arrangement occasionally awkward.

Ed, Al and Noa lived together in an apartment in Berlin. The building belonged to one of Ed's wealthier contacts and so the three were able to stay for free, not to mention they were able to use it as a temporary safe house for those they were smuggling out of Germany.

The apartment was fairly comfortable with a good size kitchen and sitting area, a working bathroom and two bedrooms. Al and Noa shared one, but as Ed had commented cruelly, they did not share a bed. As for Ed, he had his own room and his own bed and most nights he didn't sleep alone…

Al grumbled and turned away from Ed, signaling that he was through speaking to his older brother. Ed didn't object, turning away as well and quickly fell into a solid sleep, his snores filling the small shed that he and Al were confined to. Al rolled his eyes and tried to ignore Ed, wishing he had Winry's ability to block out Ed's obnoxious noises.

Winry.

Al could picture her clearly in his mind, her blond hair falling behind her back in a tangled knot of yellow, her face flushed from exertion, a smudge of grease on her nose and her eyes, big and blue, watery and filled with worry before overflowing with tears.

That had been the night he returned home without Ed.

Al could picture Winry in happier times, her smile always so wide and bright, or when she was contrite and her lips pursed into a sour pout. An image of her angry, her mouth twisted into a vengeful grimace and her eyes blazing so brightly it was as if there was a fire right behind her was firmly implanted in the young Elric's mind. Thankfully, he was not very often the recipient of Winry's wrath.

That honor would always be Ed's.

The death of Wendy Rockefeller had greatly affected Al, though he knew that it was very different from how Ed felt. Seeing the image of Winry so clearly in this world cause Al to wonder…

What was Winry doing now?

* * *

_Alright, so I know that ending seemed abrupt, but this is where it has to end._

_I know I didn't go into great detail about Ed's feelings, but trust me, those emotions will make an appearance in the next chapter or two. Besides, I've built Ed up so much in previous chapters that I'm sure most of you understand where he is coming from. Now, what about Al? I really like how Al has shaped and grown. I also know that it's common to match Al up with Noa, but that's why I threw in this love triangle between the Elrics and Noa, even if it is not all reciprocated. I feel that, at this point in their lives, Ed and Al would finally start to grow apart. Not in the important ways that so beautifully shaped their relationship in Amestris, but in the ways that men and soldiers grow and part. This new dynamic will be very important in coming chapters, so that only leaves one question:_

_Which Elric does Noa really want?_

_Reviews are welcomed and appreciated._

_No flames, please and thank you!_

**Giant Nickel**


	7. Betrayed by a Graze

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters associated with the franchise. _

**A/N:**_ Here is it: the first new chapter of the new year! I think 2009 is going to be a fine year for fanfiction. I feel it in my typing fingers! Anyway, here is yet another chapter in_ Don't Forget _where Winry does not meet up with Ed and Al, but she is certainly on her way. There is also some Roy/Riza fluff, or rather kinda-fluff, in this chapter, as well as a mystery or two that will have most of you itching to find out what's going on in my wild, crazy mind._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Betrayed by a Graze**

_Germany_

_23. Sept. 28_

***

Winry smiled triumphantly as she wiped sweat from her brow and looked down on the beautiful work of art she had just completed. The crankcase had been realigned, a small but serious crack in the cylinder block had been sealed, the camshaft had been greased generously and the valves had been lubricated.

The beautiful inline-8 engine seemed to look up at Winry with the same wondrous regard one found in the eyes of a newborn babe, or that's how Winry saw it. She was certainly looking down on the engine with all the affection of a new mother. She had even tenderly repaired the engine with careful hands and delicate precision, cooing to the gears and cables, assuring the parts that all would be well once she had fixed several of the maladies that afflicted the machinery.

"Quack, quack! Quack!"

Turning her gaze to the human baby that also presided outside of the mill, Winry smiled as she watched little Elicia, her chubby legs carrying her in a toddler's waddle around the yard, her hands clapping as she merrily chased after a rather disgruntled goose. Seeing that Elicia's hair was crowned with white goose feathers, Winry sympathized for the desperate creature and wished it luck in its escape from the affectionate but rough Elicia.

It had been almost two days since Winry fell through the Gate and found herself in Germany. In some ways, she felt alien and unsure of this strange new country, but in so many others Winry felt as if she was simply going through the motions of routine that she had assigned herself in Resembool. She awoke, did chores around the house, even though Gracia insisted that Winry needn't bother with making her bed or helping with meals, and after that, she set to her mechanical work.

Maes had explained to Winry that such wonders as the mechanical limbs she had created for Ed were simply improbable dreams in Germany. Winry had greeted the shocking news with a furious tirade on the backwards medical achievements this new world offered and had barely allowed Maes to suggest that she sate her mechanically inclined mind and penchant for fixing things by working on the engine of the family's Packard Eight which had been idling in the yard for several days.

It was the crack in the cylinder block that had caused the problems. Due to Maes's police job as well as the exciting bustle that had been occurring at the Fortress, the Hughes patriarch had been unable to find a spare moment to concern himself with the family vehicle. They were hardly in desperate need of the automobile anyway since Magdeburg was only a fifteen minute walk from their mill home, and so that particular project had been pushed aside. Winry, however, eagerly accepted Maes's offer to look at the engine having only had the privilege of working on an automobile twice before in Amestris and both times had been on Chancellor Mustang's impressive black vehicle. The Hughes had explained that automobiles were far more popular and affordable in their world while Winry had told them that she still often made her way to and from the Resembool market with a horse and buggy.

It had been a privilege to touch and tinker and fix the Packard. It showed that the Hughes trusted her and that trust was based solely on Gracia's belief and a silver pocket watch.

Winry was grateful.

Sighing contentedly, the young woman wiped her dirty hands on her overalls and assessed just how filthy her clothing had become. Another oddity about this new world was the rather strident conservative views the people had with their clothing. Woman were relatively tapered and given to little easy movement what with the layers, buttons and skirts they were expected to don. Winry's short skirt and sleeveless blouse simply would not do and, on the advice of Gracia, Winry had agreed to burn her old clothes, including her boots. The only clothing she had asked to be spared was the alchemist's patch on the back of her red coat. Tenderly, Gracia had cut out the patch which Winry immediately stowed into her toolbox (which was still safely concealed under the trapdoor in the main room) and dressed in the clothing that the Hughes had chosen for her.

Since Gracia had already informed the SS of a nephew named Klaus, it was decided that Winry should remain dressed as a boy, her long blond hair tucked under a simple cap, and large overalls and a baggy sweaters covering her feminine curves. Winry looked down pointedly at her chest and smirked. She was certainly not flat, her bosom was indeed buxom, but thankfully, an old moth-eaten red sweater of Maes's disguised any hint of a chest that Winry might have. She was dirty and working with tools, another oddity for women in the new world, and she had just finished repairing an automobile engine. For all appearances and purposes, Winry was as boy.

"Quack, quack!" Elicia called, her voice carrying from the back of the Packard. Walking down the length of the vehicle, careful not to get a greasy smudge on the brightly shinning green surface, Winry found the two year old Hughes still vainly attempting to capture the frazzled goose. Deciding to spare the animal, Winry snuck up on the child and hoisted her into the air.

"Tickle fight!" the twenty-three year old declared, her fingers busily digging into Elicia's sides and eliciting shrieks of delight from the girl. After a few moments of tickling, Winry placed Elicia back on her feet.

"Again!" Elicia demanded with a bright smile. Winry smiled back and ruffled the child's hair.

"Maybe later." she promised. "Right now, I think we need to get you down for an n-a-p."

Although she had spelled out the dreaded word rather than said it, Elicia was old enough to understand when she was being told it was time for bed. She pouted prettily, crossed her arms, stamped her foot in the mud and promptly answered 'no!' before running off after the white goose.

The poor animal didn't stand a chance.

Winry smiled wistfully, remembering a time when she had been a little older than Gracia, running around in the mud of Resembool's farms, and the goose she was chasing wasn't a goose at all but rather a cocky, smiling little boy with blond hair and bright golden eyes.

Winry knew it was only a matter of time before she was reunited with Ed and Al, Maes and Gracia having fervently promised that they would bring her to the Elrics as soon as possible. Because of their kindness and eagerness to see Winry safely in the protection of her old friends, Winry hadn't minded when she was asked to watch over Elicia while Gracia ran out to Magdeburg to collect some perishables and other necessities. Maes was still at his job but he had promised to return to the mill before dark so that the three adults could formulate their plan.

Babysitting for Elicia really was a soothing experience for Winry. True the child was noisy and dirty as most all two year olds are, and she bothered the animals and wouldn't do as she was told, but watching over a child for a friend was a wonderful return to normalcy for Winry. Between her experiences with Luther and Truth and the Gate and the Fortress, Winry was eager to do anything that reminded her that she was still a normal woman living a normal life in a normal world.

Elicia was all she needed.

"Afternoon."

Startled by a voice that didn't belong in the yard, Winry whirled around, her cap nearly falling off her head and revealing her long blond hair to the stranger that stood at the hood of the Packard.

He was tall and wide, the heavy grey wool coat he wore only accentuating his impressive size. A pair of black greyhounds stalked around the man, their teeth bared, their dark eyes surveying Winry as if they knew all of her secrets, and each one was rumbling a low menacing growl, warning the woman to stay away from their master.

But Winry wasn't afraid.

The man, though he couldn't be the man she knew so well, was yet another familiar face that Winry had come across in this new world. His skin was pale against the crisp ebony of his hair, his mouth was pressed into that same grim line and he wore the whitest of gloves just as she had always known him to.

Winry almost smiled at the man, but caught herself when suddenly, she found herself caught in the black stare of Roy Mustang's double.

There was something different about his eyes.

They were the same shape and hue, the squint was identical and even the long dark lashes were precise. They were, for all physical purposes, Roy Mustang's eyes but they were hard. Roy's were cold, but they were _never_ hard. There was always a constant warmth, his deep regard for humanity that shined from the depths of his black eyes. This Roy look-a-like had no warmth. It had been sucked out and replaced with a cold malevolence that left Winry frozen to the spot and feeling as if she were a detested animal that had dared to cross the path of this giant man.

"Are you deaf?"

Startled by the man's brisk and cutting question, Winry jumped a little and felt her heart rap like a hummingbird's wings against her ribs as she realized that the stranger had been talking to her.

"Sorry, sir." she said, her voice soft and deep. After all, she was supposed to be a teenage boy.

"You were working on this car?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you are the nephew of Herr Hughes and his wife?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you say nothing but 'yes, sir'?!" the man barked. Once again, Winry's heart hammered.

"No, sir!" she said reflexively, feeling her ears go red at the idiotic answers she was spouting. "My name is Klaus."

"So I've heard." the man drawled taking long heavy steps towards Winry. Frightened, Winry lowered her head and dared not to look the man in the eye. She couldn't explain how she knew, but she just _knew_ that if she revealed her full face to the man, he would know all of her secrets. Still, she couldn't quell all of her curiosity, and Winry raised her head just a little, only enough that she could see the man's chin.

His square, solid chin.

"You've been helping your aunt and uncle, because of the baby." he stated rather than asked. "And you have miraculously recovered, it seems, from a rather serious chest cold."

"Thanks to my aunt's medicinal herbs." Winry offered as an acceptable explanation. She lowered her gaze again, far too intimidated by this man.

It felt so strange.

She had never been afraid of Roy Mustang. Even when she learned that he had been her parents' murderer, she wasn't afraid of him.

This man scared her.

Her eyes now focused on his chest, Winry caught sight of a small circular pin attached to the left breast of the man's grey overcoat. It had a black shape in it, one Winry had never seen before.

An 's' and an 's' interlinking.

The SS…

"Look at me boy!" the man commanded, the loud reverberating growl of his dogs the only sound ringing in Winry's ears. "Don't you know to show respect to your betters?!"

Reaching out, the man grabbed for Winry, his long fingers coming out to wrap around her arm.

Her left arm.

"Ah!" Winry cried and raised her head, her face now visible for the man to inspect. She couldn't move as her eyes met his, blue and black clashing together like an ugly bruise, and just as she feared, the man seemed to unearth all of her secrets simply by looking at her.

She could tell that he was aware that his vice-like grip was agitating some sort of wound and he squeezed a little tighter causing tears to well up in the corners of Winry's eyes. He bore down on her, their noses nearly touching and his grip over her wound became tighter and tighter.

He lifted a hand…

His fingers gripped her cap…

"Roy!"

Feeling as if her knees were about to give out, Winry almost collapsed against the strong, reassuring chest of Maes Hughes who had come up behind her, one arm raised in a friendly gesture towards the man in black and another planted firmly on her head, keeping her cap over her hair.

"Herr Hughes." the man said stiffly.

"None of that 'Herr' formality, Roy. We did go to school together." Maes said with a cheerful lilt, grabbing the other man's hand away from Winry's arm and shaking it profusely. While Maes maintained his happy persona, Roy did not disguise his embarrassed discomfort at the situation, pulling his hand out of Maes's grip and taking several steps back.

"This is your nephew?" Roy Kluge asked awkwardly.

"Oh yes, our dear Klaus. Gracia's elder brother's boy. You remember _him_, don't you, Roy?"

Though there was only the laughter of Elicia and the squawking of the goose filling the air, Winry felt as if she could hear a thousand angry words and accusations being thrown between the two men. She regained her footing and took a few steps back, allowing Maes and Roy to stare one another down in a silent battle of rage, and hurt and unsaid words.

"Herr Kluge!" Gracia said happily as she joined the group and broke the strange, thick silence. She had Elicia squirming in her arms, wailing that she wanted to continue chasing the relieved goose until she spotted the two greyhounds and began to demand to be allowed to pet them. The entrance of Gracia Hughes and her infant daughter seemed to further upset Roy Kluge and he took several steps back, assuring that there was a wide girth between the two parties.

"Out walking your dogs, Roy?" Maes asked.

"Yes. I should leave." Roy said harshly, turning around swiftly without warning or a polite nod and marched away from the mill, his snarling dogs at his heels.

Only when he was out of sight did Maes turn Winry to face him, his eyes narrowed and imploring.

"What did he do to you?"

"Nothing." Winry sighed, raising her right hand to touch her wound through her sweater. "He just asked if I was your nephew and then he tried to take my cap off. He didn't believe me."

"No…no he didn't." Maes stated, nodding his head as his eyes glazed over, thoughts shifting through his mind as he formulated a plan. Gracia placed a hand on Winry's back and smiled reassuringly.

"Maes…"

"We're leaving, Gracia." Maes announced. His words shocked his wife and she looked at him quizzically. "Winry, you fixed the car, right?"

"I-I…I think so." Winry stuttered completely bemused by the situation. "You had the keys…"

Maes did not hesitate and pulled the keys from his breast pocket and placed himself in the driver's seat. The engine roared to life as Maes placed the key in the ignition and twisted. Despite the urgency that seemed to smother the air around them, Winry puffed her chest out and flushed with pride at her success. Turning off the engine and getting out of the car, Maes returned to his wife, child and guest and spoke with grim deliberateness.

"Gracia, prepare some food and pack Elicia's things. I don't know if we'll be able to come back here so be sure to take your good jewelry and some clothes for yourself."

"But Maes…"

"We have to, Gracia. It's the only way."

"Mr. Hughes…"

"Winry, I want you to get your toolbox and hide it under the back car seat. Don't forget Luther's watch, we may need it."  
"But where are we going?" Winry asked before following Gracia back into the mill.

"Now that Kluge suspects you we'll have little time. Just get what you need and get in the car. We're leaving in an hour."

"But I don't understand!" Winry cried, and indeed, she didn't. In her world, Roy Mustang and Maes Hughes had been blood brothers, men bonded by service and war and life. They couldn't be separated by anything less than death which was indeed how they had come to be parted in Winry's world. What had happened to this world's Roy and Maes that had caused such animosity?

Such hatred.

"Listen, Winry." Maes said sternly. "Roy Mustang Kluge is the most dangerous man in Germany, even more dangerous than Adolf Hitler. He was the one who sent the soldiers after you in your world. He has been after Edward for years, determined to break him and find that bomb and any other information that can be had…he is not to be trusted. Now that he suspects you…"

"But he doesn't…"

"Yes, he does!" Maes yelled. "Roy was never an idiot. In fact, he is the most intelligent man I know. Perhaps even more than Edward, I don't know…he was gripping your wound, wasn't he?"

Winry nodded.

"He knows his soldiers shot whoever it was that came through the Gate. He knows you have some sort of wound and now my 'nephew' with a wound of some sort suddenly appears just when the SS are looking for a stranger from another world. Believe me, Winry, while Roy may not see the whole picture he has certainly placed enough pieces together to get a fair idea. We need to leave."

"But where are we going?" Winry asked.

"I'm taking you to Edward's home. Now hurry! Get your wound checked, too. Your bleeding though the sweater."

Winry did not ask another question. She could hear it in Maes's voice. He was afraid, and if Maes Hughes was afraid of Roy Mustang Kluge, than he was most certainly a man to run from.

* * *

Roy sat behind his desk, his fingertips pressed together under his chin as his eyes stared blankly out the window into the waning day. The sun was just beginning its descent, the orange rays tinting the roofs of Magdeburg and making the town seem to glow. His teeth were clamped, his posture painfully erect and his mind was calculating his next move.

That nephew was not all he seemed. In fact, Roy was certain that that nephew was not a nephew at all but rather a beguiling woman from a world that existed beyond time and space. 'His' face was too round, the eyes too large and expressive for a man's, and he believed he spied a wisp of blond hair, the same blond from that woman who came through the Gate, peeking out from under that cap. That so-called nephew was the elusive Winry from Resembool, Roy simply knew it! However, she was under Maes's protection and that proved very difficult.

Maes was always a stubborn, defiant son of a bitch.

There was no doubt that Maes knew what Roy was up to. The man knew Roy too well. Maes knew that once he mentioned Siegfried…innocent, gentle Siegfried…Roy was sure to make a quick retreat. Just the very mention of that name, of the memories that still haunted him…Roy shook his head. He did not wish to dwell on the past, especially on his foolish youth and even more foolish mistakes.

Once, Roy had been able to call Maes Hughes his friend. Once, he would even go so far as to say that he thought of Maes as his brother.

But then _it_ happened…and he lost Maes's forever…

There was nothing left of their friendship but pieces so miniscule and jagged, they could never be repaired, and it was all Siegfried's fault.

"Sir."

Breaking out of his musings, Roy turned to look into a sharp pair of hazel eyes framed by narrowed, dark eyebrows.

"Eaglewing." he greeted with a nod.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Roy turned back to the window to hide his smirk. She was always concerned about him and often asked him if he was 'alright'. He always answered her, and usually, he lied.

"I am well. What makes you think otherwise, Eaglewing?"

"I saw you at Herr Hughes' home today. I thought, perhaps, the encounter might have upset your nerves."

"You were following me again?"

"It is my job, sir."

And indeed, as his bodyguard, it was her job to follow him faithfully, keeping all dangers to his person at bay.

For a woman, Riza Eaglewing was by far the most talented, focused and sharp. When they hard first met nearly ten years ago Roy had been immediately impressed by the young woman's charm and what endeared her to him the most was that she wasn't aware of that lovely charm. Looking at his personal bodyguard out of the corner of his eye, noting her sever stature, Roy felt a sudden rush of desire to take her long blond hair out of the clip she had it tied up with and see it fall over her shoulders. He had always liked her pretty hair…

Roy growled lowly, making his bodyguard look at his stiff profile quizzically.

He needed to be thinking on more important matters, not sighing over a woman's hair like some pathetic schoolboy!

He had to plan. He had to find Winry from Resembool and catch Edward Elric and find the uranium bomb. Once he had that bomb all of his plans would come to fruition.

"I need a unit on Hughes's house. He needs to be watched."

"Sir?"

"I don't trust that so-called nephew of his. I know Hughes well enough to know when he's lying."

"Very well then." Eaglewing said. "I'll place a unit around his perimeter immediately with orders to pay special attention to the nephew." With that, Eaglewing saluted her commander even though she was facing his back, and began to march out of the room.

"Riza."

Turning back, Riza found her commander looking at her with a hard, intense emotion swimming in his dark eyes. He only ever called her by her first name with it was exceptionally important.

He said it far too infrequently.

Her heart stilled for a moment.

"Place a check-point on the roads that lead out of Magdeburg. I don't care what you tell the citizens but I want every automobile leaving the city to be checked and if Hughes, his nephew or anyone else from his family tries to leave I want them detained and reported back to me immediately."

"Yes, sir!" Eaglewing responded with firm assertion before leaving the office, a trace of disappointment in her eyes. Watching her leave, her backside looking deliciously becoming in the grey trousers she wore Roy allowed himself another short moment of unabashed desire. There would be no skirt for the indomitable Riza 'Eaglewing' Spitzer, and Roy Mustang Kluge would not have it any other way. She was his most devoted subordinate and indeed had become more of a partner than a comrade in the military. He trusted her and she trusted him, and that trust is what pushed Roy down the path he had chosen. It was dangerous and had a small likelihood of success, but Roy would not stray. For the trust placed in him by Riza Spitzer, Roy Kluge would press on.

He would kill for her.

He would save her.

He had to.

* * *

Winry held her breath as Maes started the Packard and Gracia took her hand in a soothing gesture. "Don't worry."

"It's hard not to." Winry whispered. "That Kluge man looked at me so intensely…I don't think he knows for certain who I am, but I'm sure he suspects."

"Trust me, he does." Maes said firmly. Winry stared at the man's eyes reflected in the rear-view mirror and bit the inside of her cheek. She was worried. That man, Roy Kluge, was the one who had ordered her abduction in an attempt to harm Ed. While Winry could easily find the humor in Roy Mustang's doppelganger being Ed's worst enemy, there was little cause for laughter or smiles.

They were running away from Roy Kluge.

He was dangerous.

"Winry, get down, we're entering the city." Maes ordered. Winry nodded and quickly fell under the seat pushing herself up against the cool, reassuring casing of her toolbox. Part of her body still stuck out from under the car seat, but Gracia quickly threw a dark blanket over Winry's body for added protection.

"Hide and seek?" Elicia asked, bending over in her mother's lap to look down and find where Winry had disappeared to.

"Not now." Gracia said softly, gently restraining her daughter. Winry took several deep breaths, keeping one hand on her cap and the other clutching Luther's pocket watch in her coat pocket. It gave her comfort…it reminded her that Ed was out there and that very soon she would be with him again.

She wondered how he had changed…was he taller?

Not allowing herself to smile at the private joke, Winry continued to wonder about Ed and Al and all of the changes that five years could have wrought. The brothers looked very similar and likely still did, perhaps with a few odd changes. Al would be seventeen, his face fresh and youthful. Perhaps he had filled out a little more, had more muscle and taut skin. Was his hair still ridiculously long, or had he finally cut it back to the more appropriate short style that suited his face? Did he still smile often, cry, laugh and worry? Was he still the same Al she remembered, or had his missions in this world hardened his soft nature?

As for Ed…Winry didn't even know where to begin. Ed had always been a creature of habit: cantankerous, cocky and infuriating. He liked to get under peoples' skin. A regular shit-disturber as Granny often commented. Ed liked to cause and find trouble and he was always proud when he emerged the victor of any and every fight. He took on any challenge presented to him, he fought with his whole heart and he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. For all that he was an annoying, arrogant man, Ed was also gentle to a fault, kind and generous and always blamed himself for the troubles of others. Winry didn't doubt that Ed was still a walking guilt-trip, expecting himself to fix every problem that ever befell himself or his brother. She knew that as soon as they met again, Ed would lament on how her ending up in Germany was _his_ fault, but Winry was resolved not to accept the sad thoughts and angry words. She would not let Ed feel guilty for what had happened to her. What mattered was that she was relatively unscathed and reunited with the Elrics.

All she had to do was get out of Magdeburg.

Winry didn't know how long or how far she and the Hughes traveled. They hit several bumpy spots and Winry could feel her hair falling out of its bun and over her shoulder.

Suddenly, Maes took a sharp turn and cursed so loudly that Elicia began to cry.

"Maes!"

"He's got the road blocked! Didn't you see the barricades, Gracia?"

"I might have if you weren't driving like an insane person." Gracia snapped back, doing her best to soothe her crying daughter. "What are we going to do if the roads are blocked? What will happen?"

"They'll check the car. They'll want to search us…I'm sure Kluge has given the orders…I'll try the west end of the city."

Another sharp turn and several more bumps later and Winry began to feel her panic rise up her body. She was shaking and her breathing was irregular. Her feet were cold and the blood had seemed to rush directly to her head, making her face feel hot and uncomfortable. It became hard to swallow and her heart hammered painfully.

"Dammit!" Maes cried, slamming his fist against the dash.

"Turn around, Maes, we'll try the south end." Gracia offered kindly.

"I can't, I'm being signaled over." Maes grunted, waving a few fingers at the armed officer that was directing Maes to the side of the road.

"Surely they won't check our car." Gracia said. "You're the police captain, they all know it. They won't suspect you, Maes. Just act naturally and stop gripping the steering wheel as if you want to tear it apart. Roll down the window."

Maes did as his wife instructed.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a very young cadet, obviously new to the force as his uniform didn't quite fit properly, approach the Packard.

"Herr Captain!" the young cadet said with a salute and undisguised surprise. "What a surprise to find you on the roads at this hour. I would have thought you and your lovely wife would be sitting around your dinner table with that beautiful daughter of yours. Good evening."

With a polite nod, the cadet addressed Gracia in the backseat who was still trying to calm her fussy child. Gracia smiled back at the young man, giving every impression that she and her family had nothing to hide.

"Uh, yes. We just received an urgent call from my wife's mother in Hannover. She is very ill and in the hospital. We must get to her as soon as we can, so you'll understand our haste."

"Of course, Herr Captain. I'll just ask that you, your wife and child step out of the car for a moment."  
"Pardon?" Maes asked with insulted disgust.

"Herr Kluge's orders. All automobiles leaving the city must be checked. Apparently, a crazed prisoner has escaped from the Fortress and must be found before they hurt someone."

"I can assure you, there isn't a crazed _anything_ in this car." Maes said evenly. The firm, unwavering tone in Maes's voice was enough to cause the cadet to pause and step back, afraid of upsetting his superior. However, the cadet regained his composure and stepped forward so that his head was poking through the car, his eager blue eyes taking in the interior.

"Bur sir, these were the orders of Herr Kluge. I know you are the captain, but Herr Kluge is…he is Herr Kluge! His authority surpasses even the chief's. Please, Herr Captain, it will only take a moment."

The silence that filled the air for that short moment as Maes and the cadet locked eyes seemed to last an eternity. Winry was certain the cadet would find her if only for how loud her heart seemed to echo within her chest. She placed her hands over it in a silly attempt to quell its rapid flight, but she only succeeded in agitating her wound and had to hold back a hiss as the stitches burned and chafed.

Had the cadet heard her?

Just when Winry believed there was no hope, and indeed had she been able to emerge from the under the seat and blanket she would have seen Maes reaching for his pistol, a new voice that sounded like the deep rumble of God broke the silence.

"Just what do you think you are doing, cadet?"

The man who had entered the scene was unlike any man one would ever meet. He was as tall as a fabled giant and twice as wide. Every inch of him was pure, steely muscle and he appeared to have the capacity to easily crush a normal sized man with his bare fists. His head was long and bald, a single blond curl in the middle of his brow making him appear feminine. The neatly trimmed handlebar mustache, forget-me-not eyes and long lashes only added to the strange androgynous phenomenon of a man. He was a complete mystery, and if one looked just a little closer, their eyes squinted and their belief suspended, they might think they saw pink sparkles flitting about the man's head.

"But Herr Inspector, Commander Kluge said…"

"Tosh on Commander Kluge, cadet! This is the Captain and he is to be treated with respect, not insolent insubordination and suspicion! Where is your superior officer? He will hear of this rudeness…"

"Please, Herr Inspector…"

"Out of my sight, cadet, and I shall attempt to repair the damage you have so ignorantly caused."

With a quaking salute and even a shaky bow, the cadet rushed off, far away from the Hughes's green Packard. When the cadet was out of ear-shot, Winry heard Maes's relieved chuckle and even the rough chortle of the man who had come to their rescue.

"Thank you Armstrong."

"Not a problem, Herr Captain. I received your missive this afternoon and when I heard about these road blocks I suspected you might need some help. We are both lucky that you chose to come to the west end of the city."

"Well, it is the lesser used road." Maes said conversationally.

"Do you…um, that is, do you have the package?" Armstrong asked delicately.

"I would hardly call her a package. She is a grown woman, after all." Gracia commented.

"But you do have her, yes?"

"Yes." Maes answered.

"Please stop talking about me as if I'm not here." Winry requested bitterly, still keeping herself shrouded by the blanket and car seat.

"Oh my!" Armstrong said. "My apologies, young miss, I meant no disrespect. I only wished to assure that someone of great delicacy and preciousness to Herr Elric was being handled in the proper way. While this is not the most accommodating way for a lady to travel it is necessary for we do live in dark and trying times. That is why we need heroes like Herr Elric to be a protector of the people, a rock of morality and justice, a true Bastian in a world bastardized by the ruthless rule of the corrupt and undignified."

Winry couldn't help herself and dared to take a peek from under the blanket. Sure enough, she found herself looking at Major Armstrong's double, posing with his arms above his head and certain that there were sparkles dancing around him. If the situation wasn't so dire, Winry expected that the burly man would have torn off his shirt in a fit of valorous passion during his speech.

"Get back under there!" Maes hissed and Winry immediately followed his orders.

"Oh my…I understand now." Armstrong said, clicking his tongue. "Very beautiful."

"Very uncomfortable." Winry grumbled as she readjusted herself on the Packard's floor.

"Very temperamental." Maes groaned.

"A perfect match!"

"Armstrong, can you let us through the blockade?"

"Of course, sir. Follow me. You will contact me when you reach your destination?"

"Yes. It may be a few days, but yes, we'll send you word. If anyone asks, we are visiting Gracia's deathly ill mother."

"Quite a feat in itself since Fraulein Hughes's mother lives in France." Armstrong joked.

"Let's make sure no one finds that out, particularly a certain Commander."

"Your secret will follow me to the grave. Be safe."

And with those parting words, Armstrong began to march towards the barriers, signaling to the six armed officers to pull the wooden barricades aside and allow the creeping green Packard through. The men did not seem to notice that the driver was their police captain for none saluted and in a few short seconds, the Hughes and their guest were making their way out of Magdeburg and into the night.

Maes told Winry when he believed it was safe to come out of her hiding spot and the young woman was surprised to find that it was very dark. The sun had only just begun to set when they left the mill.

"Where are we going?" Winry asked.

"To Berlin. It will be a few hours. You might want to get some rest." Maes suggested, his sharp eyes bouncing between the road ahead of him and the reflection of the road behind him in the rear-view mirror. Winry craned her neck to look behind the car but saw nothing but blackness.

"Will you two be alright? I mean, if that Kluge man finds out…"

"We'll be fine." Maes interrupted, not allowing Winry to complete her thought. After all, it didn't matter if Kluge found out. All the better, really, or so Maes thought. If Kluge tried to stop them, then Maes could finally kill him.

"Get some rest, Winry." Gracia commanded soothingly. Slouching in her seat, Winry pressed her warm forehead against the cool glass of the window and huffed, making a circle of fog spread across the glass.

In a few hours she would be in Ed and Al's home.

Soon, so much sooner than she had ever imagined, Winry would be back with the two boys who had shaped so much of the woman she was. For years she waited on them, just as the brothers had expected. But she was done waiting. If they would not come back to her, she would go to them and to hell what Ed might say. It would be good to see them again…if she didn't kill them first.

Feeling her eyelids becoming heavy, Winry succumbed to a dreamless sleep, waiting for time to pass.

* * *

_Perhaps a little more wordy than it needed to be, but it did set up some major character relationships as well as some sub-plots that will be further explored as the story goes on. I hope you liked it and for anyone who is getting anxious I'll leave you with this little treat: the reunion **will** be in the next chapter._

_Thanks to all of those who have been keeping up with the fic and an extra speical thanks to those who took the time to reveiw!_

_Reviews are alwasy welcomed and appreciated. No flames, please and thank you!_

**Giant Nickel**


	8. The Bunker

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters affiliated with the manga/anime._

**A/N:**_I'm back! So I know its been a while since I've posted, so I have a treat for all of you readers: this particular chapter is VERY long. And yes, the reunion is here, thought perhaps not quite in the capacity that some of you may have expected. I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

**The Bunker**

_Germany_

_23. Sept. 28_

***

Noa paced the apartment nervously, her dark brown eyes anxiously peeking out of the long sitting room window every time she passed it. When she saw nothing but a dark street and a few flittering electric streetlights for the eighteenth time the young woman began to chew on her thumb nails, a nervous habit she had acquired over the years she had known the Elric brothers.

Noa appreciated the fact that before she met Edward and Alphonse Elric 'nervous' was not a word that would have been used to describe her. Melancholy and quiet, perhaps, but never nervous. Due to her tribe's constant roaming and the isolation warranted by her psychic gift, Noa had been a naturally quiet woman given to little passion. She kept to herself and accepted her fate as an unwanted roamer with mournful silence. Over the years she had come to believe that all of her emotions, every dream and wish and excitable feeling, were lost to her.

When she met Edward Elric five years ago, however, Noa suddenly discovered an irrepressible, untapped well of passion within her soul that demanded to be made dry and what had surprised Noa most of all was the startling revelation that out of all of her deepest dreams and wishes, the one thing she wanted more than anything was to belong.

It was a need that the young woman coveted so badly that in a moment of weakness she had forsaken her friendship with Edward, nearly lost it in fact, in order to fulfill the painful passion that thumped within her lonely, yearning heart. She thought she might find that special place of belonging in Edward's strange alien world, but the sad ending to what seemed like such an enchanting and happy story, was that Edward would never return to his world. He had left for his world once for a few interminable hours, but eventually he had returned to hers, his brother in tow, forever trapped on an Earth that was not his own. Shortly after Edward's return and the funeral of Alfons Heindrick, the young man with golden eyes had had a long and serious conversation with Noa about the consequences of putting your own desires so far ahead of everything else that, eventually, all you would have left is a broken dream and a sickening leaden guilt that would weigh you down for the rest of your days.

Edward had experience with this, Noa knew it, though neither brother ever spoke to her about it. The young Roma woman knew that she would simply have to accept that she would never know the full extent of the Elrics' experiences or suffering, only know that it had happened, and that would have to be enough.

Still, the new passion that Noa had discovered within herself was unquenchable. She had accompanied the Elric brothers on their journey for the uranium bomb, and with Edward's help she had learned to read and write in three languages. She learned how to make and break codes and how to forge documents, a skill of great importance to the work of the Elric brothers.

For the last five years, Noa had felt wanted and useful. The brothers never asked her to use her psychic abilities, only asked her to use the skills she had acquired through her own dedication and desire. With Edward and Alphonse, Noa had helped to rescue many families from the increasingly hostile wrath of the German people. She had learned to be self-reliant and a helpmate. For the first time in her twenty-two years, Noa was content.

Indeed, a great deal of her contented state was due to Edward's aid in channeling her passions. However, the greatest credit would have to be given to the younger Elric brother, though Alphonse was so reserved and distant that he would never notice.

Alphonse Elric…just the thought of his name left Noa feeling both light and heavy. When she was near him, her skin puckered and her bones shook, but at the same time she would flush, her hands becoming clammy and her throat dry. When he was home, Noa found herself preening more, her fingers often sifting though her hair and her tongue wetting the seam between her lips. She wanted to be pretty for Alphonse because she found him to be one of the handsomest men she had ever met.

Edward and Alphonse Elric were two sides of the same coin. They were each hard-headed and strong. When they had a goal they saw it through with all of their being and they were wholeheartedly selfless when the cause benefited the people. Alphonse had once said it was part of the ideology that they had carried on from their world's military. '_Be thou for the people'_, Alphonse would say when Noa asked why he or his brother had returned from a mission with a broken bone, bloody gash, empty stomach or rattling cough. In her mind, Noa understood completely why the Elrics did the dangerous things they did, but in her heart, a heart so wholly overcome with need, Noa couldn't bring herself to accept that Alphonse would sacrifice his life for the sake of others when she so badly wanted him to live for her.

She loved Alphonse.

Of course, the boy (for although he was mentally and spiritually twenty-two he was still in many ways a boy) didn't seem to have a clue as to her feelings for him.

Long before, just after the three had begun their arduous search for the uranium bomb, Noa and Alphonse got along splendidly. Since Edward was often off on his own and when he wasn't he was usually silent or disgruntled, Alphonse and Noa naturally sought companionship with each other. They played chess and checkers and cards, they read aloud and went out to dinner and talked long into the night. Of course, Noa did most of the talking and usually she spoke of Edward.

Edward Elric fascinated her with his strength and intensity. In him, Noa believed she had found a kindred spirit. Alphonse Elric, however, enchanted her with his soft voice, gentle laugh, kind eyes and honest manner. In him, Noa believed…well, she wasn't sure what she believed. She knew only that she was in love with Alphonse, and that she had been in love with him for a long while.

When Alphonse was still physically twelve, the slight feverish feelings that had been aroused in Noa's heart were awkward and a cause for shame, but when Alphonse turned sixteen and he seemed to look at her with smoldering whiskey colored eyes as twilight began to fall, Noa suddenly couldn't find an excuse to ignore her feelings for the younger Elric. However, she remained restrained, never acting first, never touching or kissing unless it was Alphonse who first engaged the act and other than the far too chaste kiss he had bestowed on her at their wedding, there had only been one other time that the reserved Elric had ever taken Noa in his arms…

* * *

_"I can't believe you , Noa! How could you do something so irresponsible?" Al bellowed. Noa cringed from her side of the room and turned away from the furious man that stood a few feet before her. She had never seen Alphonse so angry before and when he was perturbed it was always with Edward and never her._

_But she had been so stupid._

_"Don't you have anything to say?" Al demanded as he stomped in a circle around the dejected young woman.  
"I'm sorry."_

_"I'm sorry? That's it?! Noa, don't you understand…"_

_"Of course I understand!" Noa yelled, feeling her cheeks flame at the sound of her raised voice. She never yelled or spoke badly towards others, yet here she was, married just two weeks and having a thundering row with her new husband. Ed had been wise and made a quick retreat, stuttering out some pathetic excuse and leaving the apartment, taking the few children they were harboring with him. _

_Silently, Noa thanked Ed for his tactful decision. _

_She didn't want the children to see this. _

_"Alright, Noa, if you understand the dangers so well, tell me why you decided to go out in the middle of the day without your marriage license? You remember? The one that we obtained legally in order to keep you safe!" Al demanded. Noa bit her bottom lip and lowered her eyes, suddenly fascinated with the frayed edges of her blue slippers. _

_It had been totally, utterly, unforgivably moronic and it had nearly cost her her life. _

_"I forgot." Noa mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, wishing to pull herself into a tight ball and never unfurl. "The children were hungry and you and Edward had been gone for two weeks…I didn't know you were coming back this afternoon and I was only rushing to fetch a loaf of bread and some dried meat…"_

_"Without your marriage license." Al completed. _

_"Without the license, Alphonse, alright! I forgot it in my winter coat and I left the apartment without that damned license!"_

_"Enough!" Al cried, taking Noa by the shoulders and pulling her so closely to him that the heat from his body wrapped violently around her. Her skin began to prickle and Noa found herself drawn to Al by some strange, hot, wonderful force. She couldn't help herself and looked up into his smoldering gold-brown eyes, swimming with so many intense emotions and every one of them for her. _

_She felt her knees quake and was glad Al was gripping her so harshly. _

_"The police found you, Noa, and when they demanded proof of German citizenship you couldn't show them your marriage license because you left it in you damn winter coat!"_

_And with those last furious words, Al pulled Noa to him completely, her feet tripping over his, her breasts crushing against his chest, his arms wrapping around her like bands of steel, and he kissed her. _

_It was hard and demanding and Al had grown so tall, towering over Noa by nearly a foot that she found herself straining on the tips of her toes in order to reach Al's sweet lips. It was so wonderfully out of character for him that Noa kissed back with equal ardor, the desire and frustration she had been feeling over the last several months finally erupting like some ancient dormant volcano. _

_She wanted to be a proper wife to Alphonse. _

_She wanted to care for him, and fuss over him, and share a bed with him. _

_She wanted him to kiss her as he was kissing her now, with his fingers tangling in her thick dark hair, keeping her a captive to his soft lips. When he forced her head to tilt to the right so that his teeth could nip at her mouth, Noa pressed herself hard against her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck, ensuring that he would not escape her. When Al nipped at her lips a second time, Noa traced his punishing teeth with the tip of her tongue and soon the younger Elric was showing the Roma woman a new, euphoric way of kissing._

_By the time the two had pulled apart, Alphonse's kiss had turned from something harsh and punishing to a coaxing promise of tangled legs and soft sheets. His lips were like a drug, demanding that she give in more of herself to find that perfect fulfillment, and his tongue was slick and warm, charmingly demanding that she offer him all of her secrets. _

_She would have continued had Alphonse not looked so horrified._

_In an instant, the heavy intoxication of summer that had wrapped around the newlyweds became a frozen Siberian winter, leaving Noa shaking in its wake. Alphonse was staring at Noa as if she was some gruesome discovery. His hands were still on her shoulders and they were shaking so violently that Noa felt her own body begin to quake. _

_Unable to understand this raw fear that seemed to grip her husband, Noa had raised a hand and slowly began to move it to touch his cheek._

_Alphonse didn't give her the chance._

_He was gone from the apartment before she could beg him to say, his trench coat and wallet gone with him…_

* * *

Noa shook her head at the memory, a good and bad one rolled into a single surreal moment that had occurred before the same window she kept pacing around.

That night had been a long one.

She remembered that Edward had returned with the children not long after the incident, but Alphonse didn't come home. They ate dinner, bathed the young ones, and even stayed up past midnight playing cards, and still Alphonse hadn't come home.

Noa didn't sleep.

Neither did Ed.

And then, because they were kindred spirits and understood the other without words, Noa did not ask where Edward was going when he grabbed his coat and hat and left the apartment just before dawn. He returned, not two hours later, his staggering brother at his side. Before Noa could approach Alphonse and express her relief that he was unharmed, her husband faced her with sad, somber eyes, expressed an apology for his brute-like behavior and slept on the chesterfield for six weeks before his brother finally convinced him to return to his _own_ bed in his _shared_ room.

Noa had wanted to tell Alphonse that the kiss was nothing to be ashamed of, that she had liked it, that she had wanted it, wanted him, and that he could spend the night in her bed if it so pleased him, but she never did.

After having time to consider Alphonse's reaction to their kiss, Noa suspected that her husband must not love her…at least, not in the way that a man loves a woman. That was the only reason that he could appear so horrified at his actions. Perhaps, to him, kissing her was like kissing a sister.

Noa did not doubt that Alphonse loved her, but instead of the fiery, furious love that two great lovers might share, Alphonse Elric loved Noa in a completely platonic sense. He cared for her, tended to her, wanted to protect her, but he wasn't in love with her.

Noa wasn't ignorant. She had heard the Elric brothers discussing who should be her potential groom when it was decided that marriage was the only way to keep her secure in Germany for the time being. Edward simply refused, his reasons his own, and Alphonse seemed to understand although he and his brother did brawl over the subject. Noa had left the Elrics to their fight.

She knew what would come.

If Edward wouldn't marry her, that left Alphonse and he was far too noble to not marry Noa when she needed his protection. It had been an act of duty, not an act of love, and while it was something Noa accepted, she couldn't seem to stop her love for her husband. Even now, as she paced and chewed on her thumbnails, Noa couldn't contain her anxiety as she waited for Edward and Alphonse to return. They had sent word that they would return this night, but as the minutes ticked by and Berlin seemed to become darker, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right.

When she spotted a black automobile park in front of the building, Noa wondered if her psychic abilities were becoming more latent. Drawing the curtains, Noa peeked from the corner of the window and watched as five men, all in uniform, emerged from the vehicle.

The police.

It was not unusual for police officers to make quiet raids throughout the city, often disguised as nothing more than investigations into public disturbances when in actuality they were really searching for revolutionaries, spies, loyalists, terrorists, or anyone else who opposed the Nazi party. It was no secret that the Nazi's had bought most of the police, the German officers serving as the extended eyes and ears of the SS. It was not the first time the building had been inspected, but it was the first time that an evening inspection had taken place.

Noa didn't like it.

Moving away from the window, Noa quickly made her way to hers and Alphonse's bedroom and roused the two girls that were sleeping in the cot by the dresser.

"Ruth, Yafit, wake up!" Noa whispered urgently as she shook both girls by the shoulders. The elder of the two, Ruth, was instantly alert, sliding out of the bed and putting her slippers on before even asking why Noa was waking them so late.

"What's wrong, Miss Noa?" Yafit, a chubby six year old, asked.

"I'm not sure, but we must go to the bunker." Noa answered as she hefted several thick quilts into her arms.

"The bunker?!" Yafit cried, the news fully awakening the child. "Are the soldiers here? Are they going to take me away like they did Papa?"

"No one's taking you away." Noa soothed, noticing that Ruth had silently slipped out of the room to go and rouse the boys who were sleeping in Edward's bedroom. Quietly efficient and always responsible, that was young Ruth's way. Noa felt a pang in her heart as she thought of the dark haired eleven year old that she and the Elric brothers had found half frozen in a gutter in one of the worst districts in Berlin. As far as they knew, the little urchin had no family and had been surviving on scraps for the better part of her life. They would have been heartless beasts not to take her in, and out of all of the children, Ruth had been the one to stay with Noa, Edward and Alphonse the longest. She was loyal to the three adults who had saved her life, quickly learning that secret meetings and late night rousings were simply parts of life lived by the Elrics.

Noa wished that she could keep Ruth, but it could not be. Eventually, Edward would find parents for Ruth, just as he had for all of the other children that had crossed their threshold. Besides, the times were getting dark, and no child should have to see the terrible things that were sure to befall Germany as Adolf Hitler continued to gain a foothold in the country's government.

It was for the best to send Ruth away, even if the very thought pained Noa terribly.

"Hurry now, Yafit, and keep away from the window."

Noa did not want to chance that the police outside might see their silhouettes against the drawn curtains.

As Noa ushered Yafit out of the bedroom, Ruth had already awaken Paz and was arguing with him over who should bear the responsibility of carrying the youngest in their brood.

"Take him, Ruth! He's not heavy." Paz demanded as he tried to hand off the sleeping toddler to the dark haired girl.

"No! I'm getting the food." Ruth stated, already standing before the open ice box and pulling out some meats and fruit.

"My arms are bigger." Paz argued.

"So? I'll put everything in a sack." Ruth reasoned.

"I'm stronger, I can carry more!"

"You are not!"

"Yes, I am!"

"Stop this!" Noa demanded and though she only hissed the warming to the squabbling children they immediately obeyed her order and looked up at the Roma woman with ashamed expressions. "We don't have time for this. Now hurry! Yafit, get the lamp."

"Yes, Miss Noa." the six year old said with sugary sweetness, skipping past the elder children and retrieving the kerosene lantern that was stored in a kitchen cupboard. She grinned cheekily, enjoying that it was others getting yelled at instead of her since very often it was her who was being reprimanded.

"Come now." Noa said, opening up the pantry and struggling slightly as she stepped inside and pushed the cupboard's false back out of the way to reveal a darkened iron staircase. "You first, Yafit, you have the lamp, then Paz, then Ruth."

"But can't Ruth carry…"

"She's carrying the food, Paz. Please don't argue with me. You know Edward will think you so brave and good for not fighting." Noa soothed as she gently pressed the ten year old down the secret stairs that led to Edward Elric's secret bunker.

The Berlin apartment building that the Elrics resided in was owned by one of Edward's most wealthy and influential contacts. At first, Noa had not understood why Edward was so insistent that this particular building be where he, his brother and new sister-in-law make their home, but the first time that a 'routine' inspection was made by German officials, Edward had revealed the secret staircase behind the pantry's false back wall and led the little group deep underground to a special bunker that the building's owner had built shortly before the Great War. What made the bunker so special was that it did not appear on any blueprints which meant all records of the staircase and underground room were unknown to government officials.

It was the perfect hiding place in a city full of people that wanted Edward Elric's head on a platter.

And thus, it had become a family rule that whenever the city police or any sort of military officials were spotted entering the building all those residing in the Elric's apartment were to make haste for the bunker with whatever provisions were necessary.

It was a seemingly endless descent to the bunker, especially with three children carrying their own burdens, but Noa did not loose her patience and followed Yafit, Paz and Ruth one step at a time until the light of the lantern illuminated the concrete floor and blank walls of the tiny security room. When Noa, Yafit, Ruth and Paz all stood at the bottom of the staircase, they barely fit comfortably, their bodies squishing together and making even the littlest movement unsteady.

"I've got it." Paz said, one hand curving around the rump of the baby boy he carried close to his chest while the other reached out to push what appeared to be a pipe to one side like one would a crank. There was a soft grinding of stone against stone as a small door that required Noa to bend over almost double to cross through swung out.

"Alright, everyone inside." Noa said and waited until all four children had gone through the door before repositioning the lead pipe and slipping though the door before it closed on her.

The false room at the end of the staircase had been Edward's idea as a form of extra security. If the staircase was ever discovered, there was still yet another secret room to uncover should the enemy ever breech the bunker.

Crossing over into the real bunker, Noa stood tall and relished the cool air that danced around her flushed skin. The large cement room was roughly the size of four apartments, a variety of chests, barrels and crates lining the grey walls. They were mostly filled with simple provisions such as cloth, dried meats, oil, alcohol and tobacco tins which were used as either a means of trading or persuasion. The locked crates held the weapons, some of which Edward and Alphonse had disarmed and others that had been stolen from German carrier trucks. If it could be avoided, Edward and Alphonse never used guns, although that did not mean that they hadn't taken up a weapon when it was required.

Besides the crates, there was a small canteen area and spare icebox, a radio and telegraph machine, a first aid kit and of course several pallets and pillows.

"Alright, I suppose we should all return to bed…" Noa began when a flicker of light caught in the corner of her eye. Dropping the quilts and pushing the children behind her, Noa's black eyes focused on the source of the mysterious light.

It was another kerosene lamp and the harsh light illuminated two striking silhouettes.

"Who's there?" a wonderfully familiar voice asked, the query echoing off the cement walls.

Noa almost buckled under the relief at hearing her husband's voice.

"Mister Al!" Yafit called, nearly knocking over her kerosene lantern in her haste to rush to the man with shinning whiskey colored eyes.

"Ed, it's Noa and the kids." Al cried in disbelief as he met the rushing children halfway across the bunker, dropping to one knee and holding out his arms in a wide arch so as to capture all four of them in his embrace. Hearing the man's soft chortle as Yafit sloppily kissed his cheek and Ruth clutched at his right arm made Noa's heart sing. She felt that her spirit was fleeing her body, leaving her light and flowing like a breeze. She wasn't even aware that she had been moving, her feet carrying her to stand before Alphonse just as all of the children had turned their attention to greeting Edward. Alphonse was back on his feet and staring intently into Noa's eyes, seeming to want to speak but keeping his mouth firmly pressed into a neutral line.

Unable to keep control over her body, Noa reached out and delicately stroked Alphonse's cheek, delighting in the rough whiskers that tickled her fingertips. He had been gone for so many weeks with little correspondence that Noa hated to admit that a part of her feared that she might not see her husband again.

But she had doubted and now, being able to touch him and smell him and see him, was like waking from some strange foggy dream and being greeted by a knight in shinning armor.

Like Sleeping Beauty.

Noa didn't realize that Alphonse had stepped closer to gently press his forehead to hers until Edward spoke and Alphonse shifted, the delightful weight that had been present on the Roma woman's brow now gone.

"What are you doing down here?" Ed asked as he ruffled the heads of Paz and the toddler.

"There's a car outside." Yafit said.

"What?"

"A black car, Edward." Noa offered, feeling the distance that always seemed present between her and her husband return, the soothing intimacy of their reunion now lost to the shadows of the bunker.

"Soldiers?" Ed asked.

"Police."

"Shit!" Ed hissed.

"Brother!" Alphonse chided, his eyes darting to the children who were smiling rather impishly at hearing their benefactor curse.

"Uh…sorry."

Ed rubbed the back of his neck in shame and felt his cheeks flush slightly as he turned away from the others and began to pace. He usually curbed his swearing when in front of the children which is why he swore so much when he and Al were gone on missions. For the most part, Ed was successful, but he did slip every now and again, much to the delight of the youngsters and to the chagrin of his brother and sister-in-law.

Ed felt justified, however. When one had only been home for a few minutes only to discover that another domestic raid was being imposed by the city's police, it seemed an appropriate occasion to swear.

"How did you two get down here before us?" Noa asked.

"We took the basement entrance." Al said, his thumb pointing towards a second iron staircase that led directly into the real bunker from somewhere in the building's basement. Only a handful of people knew of the second entrance, and Noa wasn't one of them. There had never been any reason for her to know and so it had remained a mystery to the young Roma woman.

She didn't care, though.

Her husband was returned.

As Noa, Al and the children began to speak softly and prepare for the evening, Ed's mind began to wander as he distanced himself from the rest of the group.

He had to think.

Obviously, the family would be remaining in the bunker this night which made Ed cringe. He had so wanted to sleep in his own bed, maybe have a cold beer and take a look at his automail arm which was in need of an oiling and inspection.

Ever since his detention in The Fortress, Ed's automail arm had never been the same. With the wires and gears exposed, it had been difficult to maneuver and even more difficult to find a competent metal worker who could shape new plates to attach to the mechanical appendage.

No one's work in this drab world could compare to Winry's.

Ed bit his lip, blocking out the rush of emotions that threatened to overtake him like an inescapable tsunami.

He didn't want to think of her.

He didn't want to think of Wendy Rockefeller's pretty face, lost to the world forever. Ed didn't know this woman. In fact, she was a complete stranger, but she was Winry's double and Ed couldn't seem to stop from mourning for her. It was like loosing his Winry all over again.

The decision to leave her behind had been nearly impossible.

On the flying ship, when Al had called out that Winry needed to be considered, that she had missed him, Ed had hesitated. How could he not? It was Winry…violent, crazed, impossible, beautiful Winry. When Ed had found himself on the other side of the Gate for the first time, he had cursed Truth and every other being that dictates fate for keeping him from those he loved.

The second time, however…well, it had been Ed's decision to leave.

He had had a choice: to be selfish or selfless.

For the first time in his life, Ed did something completely and wholeheartedly selfless, returning the strange weapons from this world back through the Gate and going along with them so that he could destroy the opening from the other side.

He had been resigned to his choice, solemnly accepting the fact that he would forever live on this strange Earth and never see his true loved ones again.

Seeing Alphonse emerge from the suit of armor, Ed recalled how his heart swelled so much he thought it might leap from his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such joy, but he also refused to be saddened by this single wonderful twist of Fate. He and Al were together again.

However, they were not complete.

Once, there had been three of them, each one a child of laughter and blond hair. Now, there were only two, an incomplete trio, but Ed had decided that Winry's safety was far more important than his own desire to have her at his side as well.

At least, that is what he told himself.

His good intentions didn't keep his automail in perfect working order, or tell him when he was being a jerk, or comfort him when he had doubts, or cry for him when he could not…they didn't keep his bed warm, either.

It was a truth that Ed barely even acknowledged himself, but if he could have another chance with Winry Rockbell, the elder Elric knew that he would be with her. He would hold her hand and embrace her, he would kiss her and pleasure her.

He would love her.

But those opportunities were long gone and Ed struggled everyday with that unfair reality. Fate had demanded he make a choice and he had and he lived with the painful consequences of that choice everyday. Seeing Wendy Rockefeller's grainy image on the front of a newspaper simply made the reality of his choice even more wracking.

Sighing deeply and feeling as if his body was being weighed down by some great anchor, Ed's golden eyes looked with unfocused intent into the shadows of the bunker.

'_Goodbye, Winry…_'

* * *

"Dammit!" Maes hissed when he spotted the police car stationed outside of the Elric's apartment building, two officers standing before the front entrance like a human blockade. He drove past the building as calmly as possible so as not to arouse suspicion from the officers, continuing down the block until the apartment building was out of sight.

"What are we going to do, Maes?" Gracia asked when her husband stopped the car.

"What's going on?" Winry asked from her hiding spot under the back seat. Shortly after they had reached Berlin, Maes had instructed Winry to duck under the car seat and blanket again. She had done so without complaint, her heart hammering in her chest as the reality of the situation covered her like a thick quilt.

She was only moments away from being with Ed and Al again. With each turn, acceleration, break and pothole, Winry was getting closer and closer. She hadn't realized her body was shaking or that her palms were sweaty or that her vision was starting to blur.

None of that mattered.

She was going to see Ed.

"Alright, it should be safe to come out." Maes said as he parked the car and stepped out. "Keep your cap on, Winry, and tuck your hair under it. Stay close to me."

"What are we going to do?" Gracia asked again as she stepped out of the car, a deeply sleeping Elicia wrapped snuggly in her arms. Maes walked towards the side of the car that Gracia emerged from and Winry soon followed, her toolbox in hand and her cap firmly upon her brow, not a single strand of blond hair peeking out.

"We'll have to keep to the alleyways. Don't wake Elicia and follow close. We'll have to enter from the basement."

"The bunker?" Gracia checked.

"Yes."

"What's the bunker?" Winry asked as she and the Hughes family began to slink down the street, avoiding the streetlights and keeping close to the brick walls of the tall buildings. They walked for nearly a block before ducking into a narrow alleyway and proceeded forward amidst trash, dirt and gutter droppings until they reached a sturdy looking door at the back of a dark brick apartment building.

"Here we go." Maes said as he untucked a key from his inner coat pocket and unlocked the door with great ease. "You know the way, Gracia?"  
"I remember." the petite woman said as she slipped past her husband into the black chamber behind the door.

Winry couldn't help the nervous gulp that settled in her throat. Although she trusted the Hughes and would follow them back into that horrible fortress courtyard if so instructed, it was difficult for the young woman to take that first step into the dark basement of the strange building. For the fist time in almost forty-eight hours, Winry realized with body-trembling force that she was actually frightened to see the Elric brothers again.

It had been five years, and Winry knew that she had changed, but how much had Ed and Al changed? Would they welcome her, as she hoped, or turn her away which was the more likely reaction? Would Al still be his kind and gentle self, or had the harsh realities of this world hardened his child-like heart? And Ed…

"This way, Winry." Gracia said as she revealed a hidden door behind a huge furnace in the bowels of the building. Winry hadn't even realized she was following Mrs. Hughes with blind faith until her voice had cracked the twenty-three year old's train of thought. Gulping again, Winry followed Gracia through the secret door and turned around to check on Mr. Hughes.

He wasn't there.

"Mrs. Hughes! Mr. Hughes isn't…"

"He's watching the officers." Gracia said calmly. "He's making sure that we're safe. Don't worry, Winry, he'll join us soon. Oh! Watch your step."

Winry paused in her walk just in time to see the first step in a long descending staircase that seemed to drop deeper and deeper into the belly of the cold cement bellows under the apartment building.

They reached a landing that led to nowhere, a dark empty room that was small and useless.

"Gracia, this can't be it, can it?" Winry asked, shifting her toolbox on her shoulder.

"Of course not." Gracia said with good humor. "Winry, could you please give that brick in the bottom right corner a kick?"  
Confused, Winry did as she was asked, kicking the brick a little too hard in an attempt to vent some of her worry and frustration.

She ended up hurting her big toe.

However, before Winry could contemplate the burning tingling of her injured toe, it felt as if the floor was moving slightly beneath her feet, the slight vibrating tickling up her body and distracting the mechanic from the trap door that slid open in the opposite corner from the brick she had struck.

"You first, Winry." Gracia urged. "Just take one step at a time."

Looking down into the trapdoor, Winry discovered another, much narrower staircase made completely of steel. Her boots clanked as she began her descent, and her shoulder was starting to ache from the pulling of the strap of her toolbox, but she kept on walking, feeling the butterflies in her stomach fly higher and higher, their frantic wings battering within her belly.

She was nervous.

Winry Rockbell, a woman who had been to the frontlines of a terrible war, who had seen men lose arms and legs sometimes under her knife, who had faced Truth and stepped blindly into a strange new world, who had seen heaps of lifeless children used for material by giant blank monsters…and she was nervous about seeing Edward again?

It was ridiculous!

She was Ed's best friend, his mechanic and neighbor. They had known each other since they were in nappies, had seen each other vomit and cry and laugh. They had even seen each other naked on several occasions. There was no reason to be nervous about seeing Ed again.

But as Winry took step after step, getting closer to the bunker, she couldn't help but think that the last time she had seen Ed he was still very much a boy. Five years had gone by and now Ed would undoubtedly be a man and Winry wasn't sure how she would deal with a grown up Edward Elric.

She could see a light.

There were only about twenty stairs left to go.

However she would handle meeting Ed again, Winry was about to find out.

* * *

"Brother! Did you hear that?" Al asked, his eyes lifting upward. Ed and Noa, who had just gotten Yafit to fall asleep, also looked upward, the hushed but telltale sound of boots clanking on steel echoing around them.

"Someone's coming from the basement entrance." Ed said quietly, getting to his feet and moving towards the stairs at the other end of the bunker. Noa hurried to Al's side, both noticing that Ed had grabbed a gun when he rushed to the staircase.

"What do we do?" Noa asked fearfully, gripping Al's arm. Al reached up and took Noa's hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. With that single gesture, Noa felt as if she was safe from all the horrors of the world and wanted to tell Alphonse so, but she kept silent, her eyes as well as her husband's trained on Ed as he stood at the bottom of the stairs and waited.

The echo of footfalls became louder, clearer, and suddenly Noa and Al could see a booted foot make its way into the bunker. They held their breath and looked towards Ed who was the only one who had a clear view of the person invading their sanctuary. They expected Ed to yell and demand the identity of the intruder. They expected him to curse and brandish the gun, likely waking the children. What they never expected was Ed's jaw to drop, his arm to go lax and the gun to clank to the floor. For a moment, it seemed as if Ed would collapse as well, his knees visibly shaking, his jaw quivering and his eyes bulging horrifically.

"Winry…" he whispered.

The footsteps stopped and Al and Noa looked up, discovering that the intruder was a young man dressed in shabby, overlarge clothes, a dirty cap upon the lad's head and a few stray yellow hairs peeking from under the rim. The young man also appeared as if he might keel over, his eyes, blue as the ocean, staring with unblinking intensity down at Ed.

Noa didn't understand the connection that existed between Edward and this stranger, but when she looked at Al, he too appeared as if he had seen a ghost. She felt his body quake under her hand and knew that who ever this man was he was of some extreme importance to the Elric brothers.

"Win…" Ed sighed again as the boy walked down a few more steps. He was carrying a rather industrial looking case which he slowly slipped off of his shoulder and placed on the stair behind him. Suddenly, the young man smiled and it was only then that Noa realized that the lad was actually a lass, for only a woman could smile with such radiant love when looking at Edward Elric.

"Ed?" she sighed with a pained croak. For a moment, Noa thought the woman would start to cry, but it appeared her happiness outweighed her tears.

It happened so quickly that anyone who witnessed the reunion wasn't even certain it had happened.

The woman bounded down the remaining stairs two at a time, her dirty cap flying off of her head and allowing a thick curtain of yellow hair to fall about her like a golden shower. Her eyes were trained solely on Edward, her arms open in an exuberant welcome as she leaped from the last few stairs like a young bird taking flight for the first time.

Ed's arms were open as well and he hadn't moved from the bottom of the staircase. He caught the woman with amazing strength for a man who appeared as if he might collapse at any moment, and as the woman's legs wrapped snuggly around Ed's waist and her hands buried themselves in his disheveled hair, she began to kiss the rugged man with rapid ardor. First his brow, then his checks, his ear, nose and chin, and then, much to the delighted surprise of Al, this Winry woman took Edward's mouth with hers and kissed him as if she hadn't seen him in years.

* * *

_So there it is, the three amigos together again!_

_That's gotta be a bit of a shock to Ed's system, don't you think? One minute he's saying goodbye to Winry's memory and the next she's leaping into his arms and planting a big wet one on him. That's a bit of a stressful day, isn't it?_

_Now, I know most of you are probably upset with me for leaving you hanging, but look at it this way...at least you got to see a kiss. And I promise, the next chapter is VERY EdxWin centric and will be full of lots of sexual tension, awkwardness and fluff, lots and lots of fluff. Oh, and some angst, too. _

_As for the whold AlxNoaxEd triangle, I'm sorry if the revelation of Noa's true feelings upset anyone, but Noa loves Al completely and unconditionally. I know I fooled some of you in a previous chapter to Noa's feelings, but remember, we were looking at their relationship through Al's perspective. In his eyes, Noa loves Ed when the truth of the matter is Noa thinks of Ed as kindred spirit, not a lover. That is reserved solely for Al. However, due to Al's overbearing noble nature, Noa thinks that he is only interested in her in a sisterly sense, and thus cannot express her deep affection for him. Wow! That's more complicated than the love triangle plot. Now, just because there isn't a love triangle doesn't mean that Ed and Winry's union is going to be a piece of cake. The main barrier between those two is each other and you will see what I mean as the fic progresses. _

_To all of you who have been keeping up with the fic, thanks for being patient with me as I hurried to finish this chapter. And to those who have only just discovered this fic, I hope you enjoyed it and please be patient with me as it may take some time between chapters since I am a perfectionist and strive to only deliver the best work. _

_Remember to review, as your opinons always make me smile. And no flames, please and thank you!_

**Giant Nickel**


	9. Reunion

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters affiliated with the series._

**A/N:** _So here it is, the second part of the reunion. Now, I know that most of you will be pleased to know that this chapter is devoted solely to EdxWin. There is plenty of discussion, hurt feelings, flashbacks, awkward moments and sexual tension. I happen to be a big fan of the sexual tension, so I hope everyone else enjoys it._

_This chapter is also long....extremely long..._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Reunion**

_Germany_

_23. Sept. 28_

***

"Ed?" Winry sighed as she looked down on him from the staircase. He was there, he was _right there_, his hair up in that familiar braid, his face just as she had remembered it, and his eyes looking up at her with undisguised wonder.

She had made it.

She had found him and now all she had to do was make her way down a few simple stairs before he was within her grasp. She was vaguely aware of a loud clattering of something falling, of dim lights coming from further back in the bunker, of Gracia standing patiently behind her and Elicia's soft snores. She was even aware that her body was moving of its own accord, placing the toolbox down on a stair and her feet rushing downwards in a panicked flurry to catch Ed before he vanished from her sight. She jumped when it felt as if running was taking too long, flying through the air like a bird of prey on the hunt for a delectable morsel.

Poor Ed didn't know what hit him.

It wasn't until she was in his arms, her hands tangling in his crispy hair and disturbing his braid, her breasts pressed insistently against his chest, her lips tasting his salty brow, her legs anchored around his waist like chains and her sex grinding against his hot groin that Edward Elric became real to Winry. For so long all she had left of Ed was memories and dreams that most recollections of his smell, taste, touch and heat had slowly trickled out of Winry's mind like a leaky faucet. She had tried to hold onto those sensations but as time had passed it became harder and harder until it was impossible to even recall the sound of Ed's voice.

And he had said her name, was still saying her name as she showered him with kisses and he pulled his arms under her thighs, mindful not to touch her bottom.

That was why she kissed him on the mouth.

Since she was nine and had caught a pair of teenagers making out behind the schoolhouse, Winry had wanted Ed to see her as someone desirable. After seven years of trying, she had never been successful and Ed had been so wrapped up in his quest for the Philosopher's Stone that getting his attention was as impossible as trying to teach a cloud to talk. Back then he had been too unreachable and she far too shy.

Now was different.

Now, they had entered adulthood without the other to lean on. They had traveled and searched and worked and dreamed.

They had grown up.

Winry knew she was in love with Ed, had been for years, and after finally having him in her arms she was not about to let the opportunity pass her by again. She was a woman. She was desirable and sexual and she was going to make Ed realize it.

So she captured his lips in a fierce kiss of long awaited greeting just as she should have done five years ago when he fell into her life for a few wonderful hours. She kissed him with the intent of expressing her very soul, the intensity of her ardor so great that their teeth clanked together but Winry ignored the slight discomfort and continued to kiss Ed hungrily.

She was surprised when Ed did not hesitate to kiss her back, quickly taking the lead and tilting his head to truly taste her lips. A shiver ran up Winry's spine when Ed's hands squeezed her thigh, his long fingers just barely tickling her inner thigh and eliciting rather wanton thoughts in the young mechanic's imagination. She couldn't help squeaking a little when Ed shifted, his sturdy automail arm remaining under thighs while his flesh one came up and captured her chin in a firm caress, forcing her head to the desired angle so that his vicious pink tongue could slip between her lips and pillage her like a hard won treasure.

Ed was not sly or teasing. He took what he wanted, demanding that Winry either comply or put up a worthy fight.

Winry didn't fight…this time.

She let Ed have his way with her mouth, delighting in the warm wetness of his tongue in her mouth, the rough texture of his dry chapped lips, the way his nails scrapped lightly along her neck and the surprising agitation of his stiff blond whiskers as they tickled her jaw.

It was when his automail hand finally dared to squeeze her plump rear that Winry released the kiss.

Breathing hard, she kept her eyes locked on Ed's, ocean blue and molten gold meeting for the first time in five years. As always, there was electricity between them, making the air seem to crackle. Winry took her fingers out of Ed's braid (wonderfully disheveled from their heated reunion) and gently began to trace his face, first circling the shell of his ear, following the path of stubble along his cheeks and jaw, barely sifting through his eyelashes before trailing down the bridge of his nose, ghosting over his swollen lips and settling on his strong chin.

"It's really you, not just some dream." Winry stated with whispered wonder.

Ed gulped deeply, unable to speak with his voice, but his eyes said it all.

He was stunned and afraid and intense in the moment.

Oh yes, it was the true Edward Elric for certain.

"Winry!"

Looking away from Ed's beautiful eyes, Winry almost choked with happiness when she saw the second most important man in her life.

"Alphonse!" she cheered, pushing away from Ed who let her go with slight reluctance to race to the younger Elric and fall into his open arms as easily as the children had not long ago. While Winry's reunion with Al wasn't as amorous it was no less intense as the two childhood friends allowed tears to spill from the corners of their eyes, their hands reaching out to touch aged faces and sift through long forgotten soft tresses.

Ed watched the scene from his place at the bottom of the staircase.

He was completely paralyzed!

He felt as if he was a prisoner in his won body, unable to move or speak. He just watched with unbelieving, unblinking eyes as Winry and Al embraced, their words becoming unintelligible in their blubbering.

It was Winry.

Winry Rockbell.

She was here, on this side of the Gate and she had found him.

For the first time in all of their lives she followed him and Ed didn't know if he was more happy or angry or concerned.

She wasn't supposed to be here! She was supposed to be safe in Resembool, toiling away on her automail in her little yellow house. Yet, Ed couldn't deny how his heart swelled with an overbearing emotion as he watched her and his younger brother, the reality of being able to touch her and talk to her crashing over him like a great wave.

She wasn't this world's copy of the Winry he knew, nor was she the grainy black and white photograph that stared up at him from the pages of a newspaper.

She was Winry Rockbell and she was really returned to him.

But how had she found the bunker?

"Hello, Edward."

Gradually gaining control of his own body, Ed slowly turned to his right and found Gracia Hughes by his side, her two year old daughter sleeping safely in the security of her mother's arms.

"Gracia." Ed sighed, hearing his own voice echo in his mind. It felt as if he was both asleep and awake, slowly sifting through a fog of thick cream until he breached the opaqueness of his dreams and was reborn into the real world. He spoke without realizing he was even making words. "Winry's here, Gracia."

"I know, Ed." the woman said gently. "Maes and I brought her here."

"Hughes is here?" Ed asked, his voice still sounding far away.

Gracia nodded.

"He's keeping an eye on the officers outside. He'll join us when they leave."

"Right…Gracia, how did Winry get here?"

Giving the young man a sympathetic look, Gracia patted Ed on the back with a firm hand and looked towards Winry and Al. It appeared that Al was introducing Noa to the young Miss Rockbell, the Roma woman shyly shaking Winry's hand.

"You should go and ask her, Edward."

"Yeah."

And with the decision made, Ed began to walk towards his brother, his sister-in-law and his mechanic, each step seeming to pull him out of the shocked stupor he had been locked in moments ago. He suddenly felt a rush of energy and a cataclysm of emotions surge through his body. He didn't know he was shaking, or that he was angry at the mystery behind Winry's arrival, or that he was overjoyed that her familiar scent permeated the stale air of the bunker, or that he was jealous as he watched Winry pat Al affectionately on the cheek.

He just knew that he wanted answers and he wanted them now!

"What the hell are you doing here, Winry?" Ed asked in what he thought was a mellow tone. From the looks of shock on the faces of the three others that he was approaching, it seemed that Ed had failed. Winry looked especially displeased.

"Want to try that again?" the blond woman asked haughtily, her face contorted into a sour pout and her arms crossing over her chest, causing her breasts to finally show in the frumpy outfit she was wearing.

But that wasn't important at the moment, so Ed snuck a quick peek and repeated his question, trying to keep his fury at bay but just barely succeeding.

"How did you get here, Winry? Did you try alchemy or did you get some two-bit alchemist to do it for you? And how did you find the Hughes and why the hell are you here?!"

Towards the end of his tirade Ed's voice had started to rise and if not for Al's pointed look at the slumbering children, he might have started to yell. Whether he yelled or not didn't seem to matter though, as Winry was visibly pissed off and all of her ire was aimed directly at Edward.

Strangely, it felt like they had never been separated.

It was also sexy…_extremely_ sexy.

And for the first time since he was sixteen, Ed found himself fighting the hot churning of excitement that was eagerly migrating to his groin as he stood defiant against Winry. Whenever he and Winry fought he couldn't help but get turned on and years apart had obviously done little to change that.

He was startled out of his fantasy, however, when Winry shoved her hand under his nose, a gleaming orb of silver sparkling in her palm. Ed took the pocket watch and knew its owner immediately even though he did open it to reveal the secret message inside.

"This is Luther's."

"He's the one who came to get me." Winry said solemnly.

"He took you?!" Ed asked in angry, horrific surprise.

"He _saved_ me!" Winry stressed back. "Those men in black uniforms came. The SS came to Central and they were looking for me. If Mr. Austerlitz hadn't gotten to me first they would have taken me."

"But why would they even want you?" Ed asked with incredulous idiocy.

His words set Winry off.

She stomped towards the man who had incurred her wrath, the top of her head just brushing under his nose before she punched him in his flesh shoulder and slapped him across the face. While Ed had been expecting a wrench to the head, the brute strength behind Winry's blows hadn't surprised him. As he was recovering from Winry's attacks, she began poking him insolently in the chest.

"They came after me, you jerk, because the deluded fools were under the misguided impression that I was someone important to you!"

And with that, Winry told Ed, Al and Noa the torturous tale of Mr. Austerlitz's journey, including a cut and paste version of Ed's truth serum confession, explaining how after Ed had passed out his thoughts on Resembool and Winry's yellow house had been accessed by a clairvoyant and the results reported to Commander Kluge.

"So this Kluge man decided that if they couldn't find you they would cross the Gate and find me to lure you out."

"But how did they do alchemy?" Al asked. "Alchemy doesn't exist in this world outside of old legends."

"Maybe the Thule Society helped." Ed mumbled. "But what would they have used to activate the circle?"

"Babies." Winry said softly, her hands running up and down her arms as the vision of the bloody broken bodies invaded her memory like a midnight wind. "They killed many, many babies. I saw them when I crossed over."

Noa gasped, her dark eyes immediately turning towards the four sleeping bodies in the far corner of the bunker.

"Of course." Ed whispered, his eyes staring into air as his mind pieced together the complicated alchemic algorithms. "Babies are born with a piece of the Gate within them. It's the closest to the Gate any of us will ever be without performing human transmutation or dying. But still, they would have needed something else to get the circle to activate."

"They used your blood, Ed." Winry said. "Mr. Austerlitz told me that when you were in…that place, that they extracted blood from you which they then used on the circle."

"Makes sense." Al said quietly. "Isn't that how you got the Gate to open from this side last time?"  
"Yeah, but I thought it had more to do with Dad and Envy. They were used as material in the circle and being a homunculus and an immortal, I figured that their bodies were what charged the circle." Ed explained. Al nodded, seeming to perfectly understand his brother's logic while Winry and Noa only half comprehended Ed's theory. Winry had never known very much about alchemy and after seeing it nearly destroy the lives of her friends she had come to abhor the science even if it did have its convenient uses.

"Where's Luther now?" Al asked.

Winry didn't have to say it, her downcast look and quaking chin said it all. Still, she spoke the words, her voice sorrowful yet strong.

"Mr. Austerlitz is dead. He gave himself to Truth at the Gate. Equivalent exchange so I could come through. He wouldn't have lived anyway…he was shot before he opened the Gate on our side."

"And the SS that came after you?" Ed asked.

"All but two are dead. The two that got left behind were taken prisoner by Chancellor Mustang."  
"Chancellor?! You mean that dick-hole ran in a free election and actually won?!" Ed cried, his declaration not meant to break the somber fog that had fallen over those in the bunker, but doing so just the same.

Winry smiled.

"Come on, Ed." she said, taking a hold of his automail arm and pulling him away. Ed followed hesitantly, his feet dragging.

"What is it?"

"Don't think you're getting out of it, Ed. I haven't had a chance to check that arm or leg in five years. I _know_ you're in need of major maintenance, maybe a complete overhaul."

"I took care of it." Ed pouted as he allowed Winry to pull him towards a crate and force him to sit down.

"Look Ed, Mr. Austerlitz told me that they disconnected your arm at the Fortress and even though you're trying to hide it I can see that your elbow, shoulder and bicep plates are missing. You need work."

"Can I do anything to help, Winry?" Al asked tentatively joining his brother and friend. Al had always felt strangely misplaced whenever present during one of Ed's automail appointments. Although Winry and Ed never did or said anything that made Al feel like he was imposing, the younger Elric simply had a feeling that maintenance appointments were strictly Ed and Winry's time to each other. Still, Al wanted to help. After being apart from Winry for so long he didn't want to be too far away, not like before…

"I'll need a lantern, maybe even two, and I don't have any oil in my toolbox…I'll need some towels, too."

"Done!" Al said happily as he left to go and get all the necessary items. Watching Al with embodying joy, Winry silently thanked whatever being it was that controlled her life, even if it was Truth. She was with her best friends again and she was grateful.

After feeling lost for so long it felt like coming home.

"Alright Ed, let's get started!" Winry said cheerfully, rubbing her hands together with great exuberance. Slouching on the crate he had been force to sit on, Ed looked up at Winry with wary narrowed eyes. She seemed like a titan towering over him, plotting his torturous demise.

The next words she said only confirmed the young man's theory.

"Strip."

* * *

_Germany_

_24. Sept. 28_

***

Ed sighed grouchily, earning another annoyed glower from the young woman who was currently untangling various cables that were connected to some very important nerve endings.

He was playing with fire and he knew it, but it was just so damn quiet!

After Al had collected all of the items Winry had requested, he had handed over the two lanterns that were currently in use, stating that everyone was going to go to sleep and so the lanterns were useless to them. Curled up in a dark corner, Al, Noa, Gracia and all of the children slept, little Elicia's snores the only rumble of sound in the bunker.

And Ed was going crazy!

Winry had never been this quiet during a maintenance. She would usually lecture him in her abrasive bossy way, or try to coax him to tell her of his travels, or carry on about how much she was going to charge him, or simply ignore him in favor of talking to Al about how stupid his older brother was. But, for the last thirty-eight minutes an fifty-two seconds Winry hadn't said a word. She hadn't even cried in angry horror when she saw how poorly Ed had tried to fasten new plates to his arms, or whine with disgust at the mud and soil that had collected in the automail. She had very nearly roared like a beast when she saw that the brand on the back of his shoulder port had been scratched away beyond all recognition, and he thought that Winry would have said something when she saw the raised scars on his back, little reminders of his time in the Fortress.

But Winry stayed silent and that infuriated Ed!

Did his feelings matter so little to her? Here she was, fixing his automail as she always had, acting as if things were the same as they had always been.

But they weren't.

In the last five years, Edward had grown up, immersed himself in this world, had created an organization of rebels, saved people, hurt people…he had changed. Ed was no longer the awkward, selfish boy he had been when he carried the mantle of Fullmetal Alchemist. He was now Herr Elric and had become a leader, the one that others looked to for guidance, and Ed had taken on that role with reluctant, but noble, grace. He had become a truly responsible person, and the safety of his loved ones was his utmost priority.

It was why he had left Winry behind.

She was _supposed_ to safe in Amestris. No one from this world was _supposed_ to find her, but it seemed that all of Ed's efforts were for not. The truth of his feelings for Winry had been something kept so secret within his very being that Ed had never even really talked to anyone about them, even Alphonse. But, as the venerable, observant younger brother, Al already knew how Ed felt. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have mentioned Winry when Ed had jumped on the dirigible to leave Amestris forever five years ago.

It infuriated Ed to know that Kluge, the greatest son-of-a-bitch that existed in both worlds, had gone after Winry in his relentless attempt to get to him. But Ed was really angriest at himself for being so weak as to allow Kluge to learn that Winry even existed. No one was supposed to find out, and Winry was certainly never supposed to breech the Gate and seek him out in this world.

However, that is what had happened and now she was returned to him. He could touch her and smell her and talk to her and just look at her if he wanted to, which was something he had desperately wanted in his most secret of wishes and deepest of dreams.

Still, no matter how angry Ed was, he was also happy. Happy that Luther had gone after Winry and protected her, happy that she was out of Kluge's reach, and happy that he and Winry were together again. If she was with him, then he could protect her better, something he had never really accepted when he was a teenager traipsing across the country in search of a miraculous fabled stone. Keeping those you wanted to protect close to your person was something Ed had only recently learned, but he had taken to the change in ideology with great ease.

Ed would protect Winry.

He would protect her, because he cared about her more than he could express and part of him had been holding onto the hope that she cared about him just as much, but her silence was just so damn frustrating!

How could she just sit there and mend his mangled automail and see the scars on his back and not say a word?!

She was his best friend, that alone should have gained a reaction out of her. After all, weren't best friends supposed to be contrite and swear eternal vengeance against those who had harmed their closest companion? Winry should have had to been tied to down to keep her from marching into the Fortress and knocking off the heads of every soldier there with her wrench…but she didn't.

It might mean that she didn't feel much sympathy for Ed and his suffering, but even if she didn't, Ed was certain that Winry would have at least gone on an rant upon seeing her greatest masterpiece so sinfully out of order. Al had once said long ago that Winry cared more about Ed's human parts than she did his metal ones, but eleven years later, Ed still wasn't so sure.

The way Winry caressed and felt the metal, the way she was gentle as she handled the cables and firm as she wielded her tools, even the way her eyes lit up as she saw her reflection in the metal only proved to Ed that Winry liked his metal appendages more than the flesh ones. Even at this very moment, as Ed stared at Winry with undisguised consternation, the blond mechanic was totally oblivious to his attentions. Her eyes were bright and focused, the light from the lanterns reflecting in them like little stars. She was completely focused on the task of tweaking the little motor in his wrist, unaware of how her skin seemed to glow with the flush of excitement and exertion. She didn't realize that her long blond hair, tied up once again in that familiar pink kerchief, looked like spun gold pooling down her back with the captivating grace of lioness's fur. And her mouth…

Ed paused.

She was doing it again, even after all this time, and Ed thought he might snap!

Winry had always this quirk for as long as Ed had known her. It only made an appearance when Winry was really concentrating on something and the first time that Ed had noticed was burned like a scar into his memory. It had been during that year between his training with Teacher and the night he and Al had used human transmutation to resurrect their mother…

* * *

_Ed and Winry were sitting at Pinako's kitchen table, each ten year old lost in their own consuming project. With fervent eyes and an eager mind, Ed raced through the last few pages of one of his father's alchemy journals, using the information to translate a rather complicated rune that pertained to the secrets of human transmutation. He was quite proud of himself, his cocky grin and self-satisfied chuckle expressing his joy at coming one step closer to seeing his mother again._

_Pride, however, was most gratifying with an audience, and Al wasn't around so Ed had no one to brag to save the girl that was sitting across the table._

_Even though she had no comprehension or inclination towards alchemy, Winry would do. If anything, Ed could at least gloat about finishing his project first. Feeling his ego expand, Ed looked up from his texts and stared across the table at Winry, his mouth open and his cocky speech prepared. _

_That's when he saw it._

_Winry was wholeheartedly focused on a sample automail hand, taking notes on its assembly and even using a screwdriver to disassemble the piece and examine the inner workings of the mechanism. She was completely lost in her work, never noticing that Ed was staring at her like a starving man stared at a hot loaf of bread. _

_The gloating words died in Ed's throat and he gulped, watching Winry with rapt, unblinking attention._

_She was biting her bottom lip as she concentrated on the automail hand. That was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, Auntie Pinako had lectured Winry on the ill effects of the bad habit._

_But that wasn't what had hypnotized Ed._

_It was Winry's tongue. _

_The tip of the muscle, a small glistening triangle, was peeking out from between her lips, nudging itself snuggly in the right corner of her mouth before slowly parting the seam between her lips and burrowing in the left corner. Another few minutes passed and Winry's tongue retreated to the right corner of her mouth again leaving a wet sheen on her lips. _

_Ed couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from that coy little tongue, transfixed as it moved back and forth…slowly…and wet…_

_Ed stood abruptly, knocking his chair over and slamming his hands, palms open, on the hard wood of the table, his body bent over as if in pain. _

_Winry looked up at her friend, startled, her tongue retreating back into her mouth. _

_"Ed! Are you alright?!"_

_His breath coming in pants, his body feeling as if it was trembling and his blood screaming from the electricity that was coursing through it, Ed couldn't find the strength to answer Winry. _

_He was alright, he was wonderful, he was terrified, he was ecstatic, he was…he was having his first erection and it was incredible! His body was hot and full of energy, his cock straining against his trousers as it came to life with shattering force. So this was what the farmers joked about when they thought Ed wasn't eavesdropping. This feeling of near euphoric intensity, a confusing combination of pain and pleasure and the nearly uncontrollable reaction to relieve the pressure that was making him so rigid. _

_However, Ed had just so happened to cross this milestone because of Winry's torturous, tempting tongue and while he would have loved to explore this new development further (the scientist and pre-adolescent boy within him demanding a thorough investigation) Winry was __**right there**__, looking at him with her big, worried blue eyes. Right now, Ed's top priority was to get out of the kitchen as soon as possible without Winry realizing what was going on._

_"Ed?"  
He made eye contact with her._

_Big mistake._

_"Ed! You're all red and your pupils are dilated! Are you sick?"_

_If Ed wasn't already hot and bothered by Winry he would have kissed her for giving him such a brilliant out. He was sick! Of course! It was the perfect excuse for a quick exit into the bathroom. Nodding vigorously to Winry's assessment, Ed didn't bother to speak as he hastily ran out of the kitchen, hoping he was too fast for Winry to notice that he had taken his alchemy book with him, its open leather covers held like a shield against his crotch, protecting his condition from his friend's concerned gaze…_

* * *

Ed couldn't believe that after all these years Winry was still doing the tongue thing. What didn't surprise him was his body's reaction to seeing that little tongue tip peek out from between her lips. Ever since that first unexpected time, Ed could always feel his blood boil and his pulse pound in his ears whenever he spotted Winry doing it. He never allowed himself to get hard in front of her, though, bearing the strain of desire until she was well out of earshot before indulging his fantasies and taking care of himself.

This time seemed different, though.

While Ed was still restraining himself and Winry was, as always, oblivious to the reaction she was stirring within her patient, he found himself wondering what would happen if he reached out and stroked her cheek or played with her hair. Would she let him pull her close, crush her against his bare chest? What would she say if he nuzzled her neck, pulled that pink bandana off of her head and lost himself in her scent? What if he took her clothes off? What if…

After all, they had kissed…

"Stop looking at me like that, Ed." Winry said quietly, waking Ed from his amorous daydreams. Feeling himself blush so badly that his ears were hot, Ed focused and found that Winry's gaze hadn't strayed from her task, her craftsman's fingers wedged into his automail as she felt for foreign matter.

"How am I looking at you?" Ed asked indifferently, trying to figure out how she knew he was staring when all of her attention was focused elsewhere. Still keeping her blue eyes locked on Ed's automail, Winry answered.

"You're staring at me like I'm a damn alchemy book. Big gold eyes just looking at me like you want to eat me. In fact, I think you're drooling."

"I am not!" Ed barked, reflexively checking his chin for bubbly saliva and ignoring the tingle of the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Is that really how he looked at her?

"You've been looking at me like that ever since we were teenagers. Did you think I never noticed?"

"No! I…well…why didn't you tell me to stop if it bugged you so much?" Ed grumbled childishly.

"Because it never used to bug me but now it is, so I'm asking you to stop." Winry calmly requested, lifting her head to lock eyes with Ed. The twenty-three year old was startled to find a storm of tumultuous emotions swimming in Winry's eyes. Ed was stunned. For a moment, the young man believed he saw everything in Winry's swirling eyes…her happiness and sorrow…courage and fear…anger and desire….and it was all pulling at him.

He was lost.

And then she looked away and continued to fiddle with the automail for a few more moments before chirping in delight.

"OK, arm's done. Could you put this back in my toolbox?"

Ed hesitantly looked at the wrench in Winry's hand.

"You're not going to hit me with that, are you?" Ed asked cautiously.

"I will if you don't stop being an idiot." Winry warned dangerously, her eyes now slanted in frustration and promising a life's worth of unending wrench beatings if he didn't take the tool from her.

Ed quickly complied.

As Winry proceeded to wipe the grease from her hands and move a small barrel into place so Ed could prop up his left leg, the young man in question bent over to return the wrench to Winry's massive toolbox.

The case was ridiculous!

It was large enough to carry a limitless supply of every tool known to an automail mechanic. There were several different types of wrenches and screwdrivers, a blowtorch, a dozen drawers for every size and shape of nut, bolt and screw, what looked like the remains of two or three automail arms, and a few dog-eared manuals and anatomy books. For the most part, Ed found the toolbox to be a chaotic mess with absolutely no organization or touch of personality.

And then he saw it.

It was a little smudged and had a grease stain along the frayed edge of fabric, but Ed would have recognized the object anywhere.

The regal blue satin, the thin silver cross along the wide ribbon and the North Star, made of pure white gold, were just as Ed had remembered from his quick perusal of military awards. Without having to look, Ed knew that on the reverse side of the North Star medallion he would find the noble message '_The noble living, honor the noble_ _dead'_.

"Winry…that's the Hyperion Cross." Ed stated dumbly.

"I know."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Chancellor Mustang did. It was in honor of my bravery and services during the civil war." Winry responded calmly as if she was not speaking of the highest military honor awarded to an Amestrian civilian.

This was a big deal and Winry was acting as if it was little more than some trivial spelling bee ribbon.

And she received it during the civil war?

"What civil war?" Ed demanded. "What were you doing fighting in a civil war?"

"I wasn't fighting, Ed. I was helping."

"Helping with what?!" Ed shrieked.

"Shut up, you jerk!" Winry hissed through clenched teeth. "You're going to wake everyone up. Those kids need their sleep."

Once again, Ed blushed at being reprimanded. Today was not his day. He always seemed to be in the wrong and with Winry now back in his life, Ed knew he'd be lucky if he was ever right again.

"Winry." Ed huffed, trying to control his temper. "Tell me about the war and why the fuck you were involved."

"Let me start on your leg first."

"Fuck no!" Ed declared, slamming the toolbox shut and placing his automail leg on top of it. True, Winry was strong and could, with some effort, remove his leg from the case, but Ed knew he could put up a half decent fight and possibly exhaust her until he got his way.

It seemed like a fair chance to take.

For a moment the two friends tried to stare the other down, but after a few minutes it was Ed who grinned with triumph when Winry lowered her eyes and sighed in resigned, if reluctant, defeat.

She took off her kerchief, allowing her hair to fall down the sides of her face and slumped down on the barrel meant to prop up Ed's leg before facing Ed with tired, weary eyes.

Ed knew that look.

He had seen it before, usually in his own eyes when he was remembering his time as a State Alchemist.

They were the eyes of someone who had seen death, who had tried to defy and deny death and who had ultimately become a vessel for death by taking the life of another. Suddenly, Ed wasn't so certain he wanted to know what Winry had done in Amestris's civil war, but before he could tell her he had changed his mind, Winry had started to speak.

"After you and Al left home and came to this place, Chancellor Mustang closed the Gate on our side, shutting everything from this world away. But some people got scared, so scared that they began to question the effectiveness of the military and its oath to protect the people. There was a man, Ector Clark. He was from a naval town in the west and had been a person of interest to the military for a couple of years due to his protests and pamphlets on the corruption of our army, but for the most part he was harmless…and then those flying machines came and we were attacked and everyone was just so afraid. Ector played on that fear, convinced people to revolt and raid. He called for all out societal rebellion and encouraged acts of violence against anyone in a blue uniform. By the time he became a major threat he had created his own militia of about three thousand and had signed a declaration of separation from the rest of Amestris. He wanted to create a whole new country, one where his ideologies and political views would be unchallenged. There were a few battles, really minor in scale and execution, and no casualties, but neither side would give in. It wasn't until Ector's resistance took Fort Briggs…"

"They took the fort? How the fuck could they take that place? Didn't the army send in the alchemists?"

"Sure they did," Winry said, "but the United Shield's Confederation of the People had their own alchemists to fight back, and they weren't as discriminating as the military. They accepted alchemists who were half-crazed with the power of the science and had no regard for the value of humanity. There was no 'be thou for the people' in Ector's eyes, only the opportunity for total dictatorship. Ector Clark, his wife and son and their few elite alchemists were seeking to create a new nation by splitting up one country. When they took Fort Briggs, that's when they declared war.

"That was four months after you left.

"Anyway, a war meant soldiers and soldiers get hurt and need automail so grandma and I packed up and set up in Central. We did well, but that only meant that lots of people were getting hurt. And it wasn't just soldiers…children caught in the crossfire, old grandparents mangled from forgotten mines, women raped, teenagers kidnapped and brainwashed into believing they must die for a cause they don't really understand…Grandma and I aren't' just automail engineers, Ed, we're doctors! We set broken bones, gave out penicillin, performed small and major surgeries, even abortions when it was necessary! But then the fever broke out."

"Did you get sick?" Ed asked when Winry had been quiet for too long.

"No. Grandma did…I wasn't able to save her, Ed."

"Oh, Win." Ed sighed regretfully, his throat clogging with watery sorrow at the news that an old battleaxe like Pinako Rockbell had been brought down by an insignificant little germ.

"It doesn't hurt so much anymore." Winry confessed, her voice devoid of the mourning that seemed to color Ed's. She had cried her tears for her grandmother and would not cry anymore.

Pinako wouldn't have wanted that.

"After she died, I decided I wanted to move to the war zone. Too many people wren coming to me with infected wounds or festering scabs, sometimes even with gangrene or horrible bacteria eating at their flesh and it was all because I was too far away from the frontlines. These people needed immediate care and I needed to be closer. So I set up a medical bunker in a village that was directly on the boarder of Ector's proposed segregation line.

"My services were open to anyone from either side."

"Like your parents." Ed supplied.

"Yeah, just like them." Winry echoed, turning to look at Ed and smiling slightly, her quiet pride certainly noticeable.

"That was dangerous, Winry."

"That's why Mustang gave me the medal."

"But you could have been killed! You could have had a contract taken out on you like when…"

The words didn't need to be said, and the silence that fell over the pair was like a thick fog. Winry and Ed were staring intently at one another, truly seeing each other for the first time since being reunited only a little over an hour ago.

Ed thought Winry was being completely irrational to have gone into the middle of a war zone and more honorable than her own good to offer her services to both sides of the conflict.

"Were you hurt?"

"Physically? No. Before I even set up a med tent Chancellor Mustang, who was our side's general, had five sentries set up around the perimeter. I was never without complete protection and it turns out that my stance inspired others. I was only on my own for three weeks before I was joined by a nurse, an anesthesiologist, and a surgeon…we saved a lot of lives, I think."

"I know you did." Ed said, though he spoke so softly that Winry never heard his proud compliment. "I'm sorry you had to see all that Winry."

"I'm sorry you weren't there." Winry stated with hollow frankness. "I could've really used you, Ed."

"Huh?"

"That's all you've got to say? '_Huh?_'. That's it?! Ed, you spent over five years treating me like shit because you wanted to protect me from all the evil in the world. And don't try to deny it!" Winry snapped, pointing a warning finger just inches from Ed's nose. The young man quickly closed his mouth and swallowed the protest as bitterly as vinegar. Winry waited a moment, lowered her finger and continued to speak. "Al told me that before you disappeared that first time, when we were sixteen. When he told me, I thought that was the stupidest thing I had ever heard. It _is_ the stupidest thing I've ever heard…you're really stupid, Ed!"

"Fuck, woman, don't call me stupid!"

"Don't call me woman!"

"I'll call you woman if I fucking feel like it…woman."

And that was the last thing Ed knew before sweet black oblivion took him in its peaceful smothering embrace, the stinging ache of a fresh head wound swelling against his right temple becoming nothing more than a familiar memory.

* * *

Ed regained consciousness slowly, wondering for a moment if he was waking from another blissful alcohol-induced sleep of deep nothingness. But then the burning throb began to pulse violently through his head and he remembered, vaguely, that he had said something chauvinistic and asinine to Winry and she had soundly thrashed him into unconsciousness.

Just like she always had.

God, it felt good.

Raising his flesh hand to gently examine his injury, Ed cringed when his fingertips trailed over the bump. He didn't feel any blood which meant Winry had taken pity on him, although the headache he was currently fighting led him to believe that Winry was still holding onto a great deal of anger towards him, not the least of which was due to his mistakes as a young man.

Yes, he had made mistakes.

Trying to keep Winry uninvolved and ignorant of the truths of his work as a State Alchemist had accomplished nothing but an ocean of hurt feelings, missed opportunities and deep-seated, bitter resentment that might never be bridged.

Could he ever recapture those lost moments from his youth? Could he go back to that last time they were together, back in his room in the yellow house in Resembool, he in nothing but a towel and she sitting on the edge of his bed, her long, slender fingers playing through his hair? Could he be sixteen forever, frozen in time with her by his side?

It would be pure happiness if such miracles were possible.

Ed started when he felt a clammy patch of skin touch his left leg just above his knee port and left the realm of his musings. He realized, for the first time, that he was lying flat on his back on a crate, his automail leg propped up on a barrel. Straining his neck, Ed slowly looked up over his body and spotted a long golden ponytail peeking out from the flap of a pink kerchief.

So, Winry had taken advantage of his defenselessness and had tuned up his leg. Ed smiled ruefully.

Did the woman think of nothing but metal and gears?

She was resting her flushed forehead on his skin, one hand running along the length of his leg, caressing both the skin and the metal in lazy circles. The sensation was very soothing and Ed rested his head back down on the hard, unforgiving wood of the crate as he basked in Winry's simple touches.

He had no sensation in his metal limbs since automail technology hadn't advanced enough to recreate touch and feeling, but he was aware of Winry's hand when it wandered onto his leg, trailing over his knee and curving under the calf until it reached the scar tissue that laced the edge of his port. Holding his breath, Ed suppressed the groan that was building up at the back of his throat. The scar tissue around both of his ports was especially sensitive, most likely because it was where his nerves were primarily concentrated before they became enmeshed with the automail. And then her fingers touched the soft tissue under his knee and rubbed along the outside of his thigh, going higher and higher until she just reached his hip before retreating and going back to the automail.

Ed breathed heavily and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensuous torture of having Winry touch him again. He had almost forgotten that she could be tender, and in those rare soft moments, Ed basked in Winry's attention, imagining that he was a normal boy who had never suffered a single moment of sadness in his life, courting the girl-next-door.

It would have been a good life if it had ever happened.

Ed could feel his eyelids getting heavy and was just about to fall asleep, sprawled out on a crate in nothing more than his underwear when he heard a loud sigh and felt Winry press her face against the flesh of his leg, her lips warm and wet.

Ed craned his neck to look at her.

"This was supposed to be easier." she whispered.

"What is?"

"Ed!" Winry gasped, pulling her face away from his leg and scooting over the floor before turning to face her friend.

Ed couldn't help smirking.

She was blushing.

"So? What was supposed to get easier?" Ed pressed, grunting as he forced his body into a sitting position, his head feeling like it might roll off his neck.

She had really hit him hard!

"It's nothing Ed. Here, you should get dressed, you're gonna get cold."

Scrutinizing her as she handed him his clothes, Ed decided that he wouldn't press the issue, but he wouldn't forget it. He would ask her another time.

"It's late." Ed said as he looked at the dim light of the kerosene lamps. "Has Hughes come back yet?"

"No."

"Damn." Ed grumbled, knowing that if Hughes had not entered the bunker it surely meant that the police were still raiding the apartment block. When would the bastards back off?

"We should go to sleep, I guess." Winry whispered as she pushed her back against the crate Ed was sitting on. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin between them, letting her eyes fall and allowing exhaustion to finally claim her. She listened as Ed put his clothes back on, basking in the memory of seeing him stripped down to his underwear.

Well, one thing hadn't changed…Ed still had a fabulous body.

It had taken her breath away when she had seen him bared before her and suddenly all of her girlhood fantasies returned with perfect clarity, only seeing Ed now as the man he had become, the fantasies seemed paltry and superficial. Romance was what teenager girls secretly swooned about in their journals, but lust was something a woman craved like water and air. It was more real, palpable, and thinking of running her hands along Ed's broad shoulders and sculpted chest, Winry truly believed that lust was much easier to understand, if frustrating.

Recalling Ed's body, however, also reminded Winry of the torture he had suffered, her eyes having charting the scars that crossed his torso, noting the fresh whip scars on his back and what looked like a bullet wound along his left side. It made her want to cry and lash out with equal fervor. How dare anyone hurt Edward!

'_I'll make that Kluge man sorry for what he's done._' Winry vowed silently before putting all thoughts out of her mind and settling down to rest. Ed had turned out the lanterns and Winry was only mildly surprised to find that, even though she had slept on the way to Berlin, she was completely drained.

"Here." Ed said, disturbing Winry's attempt at falling asleep. Raising her head, Winry felt before she saw Ed slip beside, his back firm against the crate as he threw a blanket over himself and Winry. "You can rest on my shoulder if you want."

Stunned, Winry looked up at Ed and noticed his blush, wondering if he was flustered because they were pressed so closely together, their arms, hips and legs rubbing to create awkward, but strangely comfortable, warmth between them.

"Goodnight, Ed." Winry said, pillowing her head on his shoulder and accepting the arm that he gently put around her back.

"I missed you." Ed confessed in the darkness of the bunker.

Winry smiled and nuzzled into Ed's neck.

"I missed you, too."

And so, Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell fell asleep huddled together like two lost lovers finally reunited. They slept long and deep, their dreams not plagued with nightmarish images from their pasts apart, but filled with sweet memories of their childhood together and the possibilities that the future might hold.

That was how Maes Hughes found the pair when he silently stepped into the bunker three hours later.

* * *

_And there it is, another chapter down!_

_I'm really proud of this reunion because I think it works in several ways. I must confess that the flashback is my favorite part since I feel that it needs to be established that Ed had sexual feelings for Winry before he ever left through the Gate, and that they are not newly emerging feelings being discovered as the pair have now become adults. I was also really trying to show that, yes Winry loves Ed (without any doubt) and ,yes, she wants to be with him, but Winry is also very, very, **very** angry with Ed for taking off. Years of resentment, bitterness and just full blown rage have been bottled up within her for a long time. She's trying to control it so as not to drive Ed away, but a small unconscious part of her wants to hurt Ed like he did her by leaving over and over again. These little boughts of anger will make an appearance from time to time which means Ed and Winry are going to have to spend a lot of time together to repair the damage to their relationship, whcih of course means more EdxWin centered chapters for all of you to read!_

_Yay!_

_Anyway, thanks to everyone who has been reading and a speacial thanks to those who took the time to leave a review. They were really appreciated and often gave me inspiration when I sought it. _

_As always, your reviews are weclome. No flames, please and thank you!_

_And I remain, respectfully yours,_

**Giant Nickel**


	10. Things That Never Change

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters affiliated with the manga/anime._

**A/N:**_ Well, this chapter has been so much fun to write! As much as I adore the EdxWin-centric moments I really love to write about the interactions between Ed, Al and Winry. I also liked having the opportunity to explore Al and Winry's relationship which is, I assure you, strictly brother-sister. Also, I think I have some weird love for flashbacks. I have another flashback in this chapter and that makes four or five chapters I've included flashbacks in. Weird._

_Anyway, just to keep all of you on the edge, this chapter includes a MAJOR plot twist which will affect everything that happens in this fic from now on. _

_So..._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Things that Never Change**

_Germany_

_24. Sept. 28_

***

Winry woke up with a stiff neck.

Slowly, she raised her head and was met with a sight that made her heart swell. Ed was beside her, his heavy warm arm relaxed over her shoulders, his disheveled hair falling haphazardly over his angled features, and the tiniest trail of drool trickling from the right corner of his mouth.

He was so beautiful and she could kiss him again so easily, drool and all, but the sound of muted shuffling footsteps reminded the twenty-three year old that she and Ed were not alone in the bunker. True, their first kiss had been a very public embrace, but Winry had been so focused in the moment that she could care less if Commander Kluge himself was there to witness their frenzied kisses. And rather than regret her actions, Winry found herself wishing for more kisses, only behind closed doors and in private chambers.

Just the two of them...

But that would have to come later.

Smoothly, Winry extracted herself from Ed's side and stretched, the bones in her spine popping softly. With a tight-lipped moan, Winry stood on slightly cramped legs and began to pace as she surveyed the bunker.

"Good morning." Maes said.

Winry smiled warmly at the man who was tying up his boots by a crate near where she and Ed had fallen asleep. Hughes had lit the two kerosene lanterns, one on each side of him and the light did little to flatter the man's appearance. He had bags under his eyes, his beard was unkempt, his glasses were smudged and dull, and the small wrinkles around his eyes and mouth seemed to be severely pronounced.

"Fuck, Hughes, you look like shit."

Rolling her eyes, Winry turned to glower at Ed was stiffly rising to his feet with slow steadiness, his mouth open in a roaring yawn and his flesh hand scratching his belly.

"Have you lost all of your manners in the last five years?" Winry snorted with disgust.

"Don't worry about it, Winry. Usually I don't even get a greeting at all first thing in the morning. Ed's not exactly a morning person."

"He never was." Winry stated as she continued to glower at her friend who was doing his best to pretend that he wasn't hearing every word that was being said about him, though his grimace suggested otherwise.

It almost made Winry want to laugh.

"How long have you been down here, Hughes?" Ed asked, deciding to change the subject from his poor bedside manner to more important matters. "Are the police gone?"

"Yes. They were here for nearly six hours. I promise, there isn't a single brick, window or rat that wasn't accounted for. They really scrutinized the place."

"What about our apartment?"

"Don't worry. They didn't have the authority to search the actual apartments unless they were invited inside by the tenants, and Longstein's lawyers arrived shortly after I did to make sure those bastards kept to the law."

"Who is Longstein?" Winry asked as she combed her fingers through her hair.

"The woman who owns this apartment block." Ed answered. "She's a friend of mine and with her money and influence Al and I have been able to stay relatively safe even though we're the Nazi's most wanted."

"Couldn't stay out of trouble even in a whole new world, could you, Ed?" Winry joked ruefully as she placed her hands on her hips. Ed frowned and snorted before moving to adjust his braid which had become lopsided and messy during his rest.

"Guess we can wake everyone up and go back up to the apartment." Ed suggested. "What time is it?"

Hughes took out his pocket watch and checked.

"Just after nine o'clock in the morning." Hughes said. Winry didn't fail to notice that the watch Hughes used was identical to Luther's. It symbolized Hughes's loyalty to Edward and his cause against the increasingly popular Nazi regime.

"OK. So, let's get everyone up." Ed decided. Hughes nodded and turned to make his way towards the others, but before Winry could join him, Ed pulled at her shoulder, forcing her to face him.

"What?"

"Just wait a second, Win. Here." Ed handed Winry a small compact. "Fix yourself up a bit."

"Excuse me!" Winry all but roared.

"We're going out!" Ed roared back as he shoved the compact into Winry's face, causing her nose to brush against the glass and leave a smudge. "You can't walk around Berlin in Hughes's old work clothes. We need to get you some…girly clothes…I'll buy you anything you want."

"Yes, you will." Winry stated sharply as she took the compact from Ed and began to examine her reflection. She still had the odd grease smudge on her fact and quickly wiped those away. She looked at her teeth, glad to find that nothing unseemly was stuck in-between the bones. She would need to buy a toothbrush, and a hairbrush, and soap, and underwear…she would need to buy everything to begin her life anew. Did Ed even have enough money to do such a thing?

"I don't have anything you can wear to go out." Ed said. Looking beyond Ed to the corner, Winry noticed that the others were slowly getting to their feet, the three older children yawning and stretching while the youngest, what appeared to be a blond baby boy of about three years, was clutching tightly to Al's neck and making the young man chuckle. Catching Winry's eye, Al smiled warmly and began to walk towards his brother and childhood friend.

"We can't really give you anything of Noa's since…well…" Winry turned her attention back to Ed when his speech faltered and noticed that he was trying very hard not to look down at her chest, but of course his efforts _not_ to look only resulted in him blatantly staring at her breasts. "…well, nothing of hers will fit you." Ed finished lamely.

"And just what do you mean by that?" Winry asked, partly out of insulted pride and partly out of the thrill of watching Ed squirm. She tucked the compact safely into her pocket as she waited for an explanation.

"Come on, Winry. You know!"

"Know what?" Winry asked, her tone carrying a teasing, but lethal, edge.

Ed needed to answer correctly and he needed to answer fast.

"You know." Ed answered lamely. Blushing terribly, the twenty-three year old once again looked down at Winry's chest. "You're just…" he raised his hands, his palms facing towards her as if he meant to cup each breast. Winry didn't know if she was more flattered or terrified. Of course, Ed didn't touch her, merely took a long moment to try and organize his thoughts and work out his words. "Well, Noa's just…she's…" and with that pathetic explanation, Ed turned his open palms towards his own chest and held them out in a demonstration of just how ample Noa's bust was compared to Winry's. He grimaced. "Get it?"

"Oh yes, I get it completely. And, you've come to this conclusion how, exactly?" Winry teased. "What would Al say if he knew you were checking out his wife?"

"It's not like that!" Ed growled, blushing so badly Winry thought he might melt his automail.

"Relax, Ed. I get it." Winry soothed as she patted the distressed man on the back.

"Morning." Al greeted hoarsely as he sauntered towards the pair, the small boy still in his arms. He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the hand that wasn't cupped under the little boy's bottom while the boy burrowed his face deeply against Al's neck. The pair looked as if they had had a restless night.

"Clean up, Al, we're going out today." Ed announced, his voice sounding irritated and slightly panicked.. "Hurry up!"

"Yeah, yeah." Al groaned with good humor, but made no attempt to move as he was still preoccupied with getting the sleepy grit out of his bronze colored eyes. The child he was holding didn't seem particularly interested in waking up either, his head buried tightly against Al's collar and little sounds of protest coming from his small mouth.

"Ah…" Winry cooed. "Who do we have here?" Winry asked, raising her hands to take the drowsy child from Al. Smiling warmly, and excitement dancing around the corners of his eyes, Al was just about to hand the boy to Winry when Ed pushed his way between them and snatched the child with fierce protectiveness and shot his brother a frighteningly angry glower before walking towards Noa.

"We don't have time for this!" Ed snapped, as he patted the back of the boy's head, the child merely accepting his new carrier and tucking his face securely against Ed's chest. "We're going now!"

"Alright." Al said. Winry took note of the disappointed look in Al's eyes as Ed handed the baby to Noa and proceeded to give her instructions on what to do while the three of them were out.

"Don't worry about it, Al." Winry said. "You know Ed, no patience at all. I'll get to meet all of the kids when we get back."

"But Winry..." Al started, only to be interrupted as Ed threw his coat over Winry's shoulders and tossed Al his hat.

"Let's go."

"Brother!" Al snapped. "What's the rush? Why not just stay in for a few hours and go out for lunch instead?"

"No. We'll go now." Ed insisted. The two brothers glowered dangerously at each other, gold and bronze narrowing and speaking so much more than words ever could. To the untrained eye, one would merely think that Edward and Alphonse Elric were having a typical sibling squabble, but Winry's senses were extremely in tune with the shifting emotions of the Elric brothers, and she knew that this argument was over something much more important than a simple shopping trip.

Ed wanted to leave immediately, Al wanted to linger. Winry couldn't begin to understand what the issue could be, but whatever it was, it was important…at least, to the brothers. Feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she realized that even after five years she could still perfectly read Ed and Al, the young woman smiled and reached out to the brothers. Bridging the gap between the boys, Winry wrapped her arms around their necks and pulled them to her effortlessly. She squeezed the Elrics tightly, her cheeks pressed against theirs, a happy moan escaping from her clenched lips as she fought back tears.

"Winry? Everything OK?" Al asked as he soothingly rubbed his friend along her back.

"Let's just go, guys." she said breathlessly as she released the pair and offered both a radiantly happy smile. "No fighting, OK. At least, not this morning. Let's just go and get me settled into this world, alright?"

"Sure, Winry." Al sighed, all of the tension he had held as he stared down Ed now melting away as quickly as ice in the sun. He wouldn't deny her this request, not when it was their first time together as a trio in so long.

"Great!" Winry exclaimed as she began to ascend the staircase that led to the basement of the apartment.

"Come on, Ed." Al instructed, the slightest tinge of malice lacing his voice. Ed didn't bother responding to his brother's upset and simple followed the others up the stairs.

He knew why Al was mad, and Ed was even madder at himself. He just needed some time to get his thoughts together and sink into the reality of Winry actually being with him on this side of the Gate. It was all still so new and even somewhat dreamlike, but Ed understood that Winry was actually with him again. He would have to speak with her, explain everything about the bomb that Kluge was after and the hostile situation with the SS. He would have to make her understand the dangers…and convince her to stay behind while he and Al left for weeks at a time to fight Kluge and keep the bomb protected.

He would protect her, too, better than he ever had back in Amestris. He would keep her safe and provided for and warm and comfortable. He would let her work on his automail to her heart's content and take every appliance in the apartment apart if she wanted to and he would let her buy whatever she wanted and decorate as she pleased…and he would tell her _everything_.

There would be no more secrets, Ed decided firmly as he, Winry and Al emerged from he bunker's hidden entrance into the dark, damp basement of the apartment building. He would tell her things he wanted to tell her, things he meant to tell her, and things she might not want to hear.

He would tell her everything.

* * *

Winry bit the inside of her cheek as she struggled. She shifted her weight, pushed forward and back in her seat, and even tried to ignore the irritating discomfort, but in the end there was no help for it. Trying to be as subtle as possible, Winry placed her hands high on her thighs. Taking a moment to admire the soft wool of the new goldenrod skirt Ed had purchase for her, Winry dug her fingers into the material and pulled.

She twisted and yanked, grimaced at the irritating chaffing, but then relaxed and sighed happily when she finally straightened out her stockings so that they were no longer tightening around her in the most uncomfortable places. Settling comfortably in her chair, Winry looked out of the corners of her eyes to see if anyone in the café had noticed her embarrassing struggles.

Hearing a muffled chuckle, Winry looked across the table at her companion and blushed. It appeared that she hadn't been as inconspicuous about her twisted stockings as she had hoped. Al was covering his mouth with both hands, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he stared at Winry who did her best to act as if she hadn't a clue what her dining companion found so entertaining.

"Problems?" the seventeen year old asked between his lips.

"I hate stockings." Winry answered honestly. "Do the women here really wear them all the time? No pants?"

"Well, some wear pants, but they do tend to stand out." Al said as his eyes swept the other patrons that sat around them in the enclosed outdoor café. Winry followed Al's example and looked around, unable to find a single woman in a pair of pants or a skirt that went higher than their knees.

"This place is so archaic." Winry grumbled. "My grandma didn't even have to wear skirts this long when she was my age."

"You look nice." Al offered as a means of soothing Winry's bad temper. "And besides, brother said you could wear a pair of his old trousers around the apartment."

"Yeah." Winry commented, blushing at the memory of Ed's offer. He had only said it to stop her from making a scene in the dress shop when the sales clerk had told her in a superior snotty tone that only bumpkin farmhand women wore pants. While Winry had been eager to bean the clerk with a mannequin, Ed had simply taken Winry firmly by her shoulders and directed her out of the shop, his offer of his hand-me-downs the only thing that calmed Winry enough to be led into another dress shop and amicably purchase the outfit she was currently wearing.

It wasn't that Winry didn't like the clothes. Actually, she found it rather becoming, with the richness of her goldenrod skirt nicely balanced by the red-wine color of her blouse. The ruffles at the collar and cuffs she could have done without, and Winry most certainly could have lived happily without the beige stockings, but that was the fashion and she had to suck it up. At least she had talked Ed out of purchasing the hideous hat that had been suggested to go along with the ensemble. It was a ridiculous contraption that was shaped like an upside-down pastry bowl with pearls, lace and feathers all along the trim. While Ed had agreed that the hat was out of the question, he did insist on the stockings and high-heeled boots. Winry had argued with Ed that she hadn't worn high-heels since she was a little girl playing dress-up with her mother's things, but the stubborn alchemist would hear none of it and forced Winry to buy two pairs of the torturous contraptions.

Winry didn't like the shoes, but she had had her revenge. The entire walk to the café she had tripped nearly every fifth step she took and Ed was forced to catch her, something which he had grumbled about the whole way. Winry smirked secretly to herself. After they ate breakfast, Winry was certain that the next shop they stopped at Ed would not argue with her when she asked for a pair of flat boots.

Maybe even a pair of men's shoes…

"Winry?" Al asked.

"Mmm?"

"I'm really glad you're here. It's…it's really good to see you again." Al confessed, reaching across the table to take her hands in his. Winry smiled fondly at Alphonse and squeezed his hand tightly, wanting him to understand just how much it meant to her to be with him again.

Words would never be enough to express her joy.

"I know that when I came back…when I got my body back and Ed was sent to this place…I wasn't around for long. I didn't remember anything about being in the armor. It was scary to know that five years of my life had passed and I didn't remember any of it. My last memory of Ed was when he was a boy and we were trying to bring Mom back…I wanted to find him again. I had to."

"I know, Al. Why do you think I let you go so easily? I wish I could have come with you."

"But you could have come with me!" Al exclaimed. "There was no reason for me to leave you behind in Resembool. We could have both gone to stay with Teacher and you could have worked on automail while I trained and then, when I began to travel to search for a way to bring Brother back we could have gone together."

"Oh Al…" Winry sighed as she reached over the table to stroke the boy's cheek with warm affection. "Don't you see? I couldn't have gone with you. As much as I wanted to get Ed back…it wasn't my mission. It never was. That was something you had to do, and you did it well. You got him back, didn't you?"

"But at what price? That Eckhart woman came through, killed innocent people, and then Ed and I came to here and left you behind again!"

"I know." Winry said. "And don't fool yourself into thinking I wasn't angry as all hell at both of you. I cursed you two every day for weeks. I took all of your pictures and locked them away in a cupboard. The doll you and Ed made me when we were kids…I buried it with Grandma. I was trying to bury everything with her, I think…all of my hurt and anger…that's part of what drove me to go to the front lines."

"Ed was telling me about that." Al commented.

"When?"

"When you were changing at the shop."

"Ah. He's not happy about it, is he?"

"Do I really have to answer that? You know Ed's temper. I can't really blame him, though."

"Why? You think I was being reckless, too?" Winry snapped as she crossed her arms and legs and shot Al a narrowed glower.

"No." the seventeen year old said casually as he mimicked her posture and shot her a self-satisfied smirk. "I just know that Ed blows up anytime you're in some sort of dangerous situation. He doesn't like to think of you getting hurt and even worse, he's afraid that if you ever were hurt it would be his fault."

"Seriously, Al, does Ed thrive on guilt? Is it his only sustenance?"

Al laughed at Winry's semi-serious outburst.

"You're right, but that's just how brother is. Brother's very protective of those he loves. Don't you remember the beating he took from the boys in school who were teasing you after your parents died?"

Winry did remember, and even after sixteen years her heart fluttered at the memory of Ed defending her against the brood of bigger, meaner boys who had soundly thrashed the much smaller Ed, leaving the elder Elric with two black eyes, a chipped tooth and crescent shaped scar behind his right ear.

He had been a hero in her eyes.

Even so, she had lectured him on fighting losing battles, but Ed had simply rolled his eyes rudely at her before reminding her that he had fought the losing battle for her benefit.

He had claimed to do a lot of things for her benefit when they were little.

Winry didn't fail to notice what Al was trying to say.

Of course Ed loved her, and she loved him.

Romantic love aside, Winry didn't think there was ever a time when she or Ed didn't love one another. Perhaps they argued and beat on each other a lot, but that was how they expressed their concern and affection. You loved your friends, especially your best friend. It was an equation as unquestionable as equivalent exchange.

But then there was that time when platonic love grew to include romantic love. Not changed, just grew.

When Ed had returned after four years as a wandering State Alchemist, his arm completely gone and the slightest of limps affecting his confident stride, Winry had felt her feelings for her friend shift. She felt them grow, become all encompassing and consuming. There was a spark, a sharp bolt of lightning that seemed to make the air crackle whenever they were in the same room together.

That last time they were together, when Ed had dyed his hair a muddy green so as to travel undetected, Winry had pulled tightly on his hair and insisted that she would braid it for him…

* * *

_Winry wondered how Ed kept his hair so soft. It was always sleek and free of tangles and so simple to style. She had thought that from years of traveling under an unforgiving sun with no hat to protect him, Ed's hair would have a more straw-like consistency, crisp and fragile, but as she finished braiding his now dark colored hair, Winry wished it was longer so that she could continue to run her fingers through it…then she could keep him with her for a few more hours._

_"All done." Winry said rather regretfully as she tied his hair back._

_"Thanks, Winry." Ed said as he raised his hand to feel the braid. "Not a hair out of place."_

_"Of course not." Winry answered smartly. "I make my braids just as good as my automail."_

_"You sure do." Ed agreed softly. "You make the best automail."_

_"I know."_

_"I mean it." Ed said seriously, shifting closer to her on the bed and bringing his head very close to hers. Winry stiffened, wondering what Ed was doing. He never got close to her, not since his mother's funeral. Then again, Winry didn't get very close to Ed unless it was necessary, like his ever increasingly frequent automail repairs. _

_She wanted to be close to him, though, and thinking that this might be the last time she saw him for a long time Winry wanted to remember every detail about him. She clung to the hue to his eyes as he looked at her, and her fingers curled in as she implored them to never forget the sleek dampness of his hair. And his scent, his body warm and clean, his breath smelling faintly of mint toothpaste. He was looking at her __**that**__ way again, as if she was a feast waiting to be eaten…she didn't want to let him go!_

_She wanted Ed to stay, automail and all. She would take care of him, she knew she could, and she wanted to learn everything about him. She wanted him to always look at her like that. She didn't care that things had become hot and awkward between them. In fact, she was excited about the whole thing! Al was gone, already shipped to the train station in his disguise leaving them alone to do whatever their compulsions told them to.. He was leaning into her. _

_He could tell her anything or nothing, it didn't matter._

_She just wanted him to stay._

_"Thank you for everything, Winry. I'd be lost without you."_

_Hearing the sincerity in his voice, Winry wished for the moment to last forever…_

* * *

That was the last time they had been alone together.

They had been sixteen, just discovering what it meant to truly become adults. They were young and curious, trying to learn exactly what it was that was happening between them. If Ed didn't have such a focused min, Winry wondered what might have happened in that bedroom seven years ago. After all, Ed had been clad in nothing but a towel and Winry couldn't muster up enough modesty to care that he was practically naked.

She had just wanted to be close to him.

She had wanted Ed to kiss her, hold her, and had even fancied that his towel might '_accidentally'_ slip from his body which would lead to her own clothes being discarded and they would make love on the rumbled bed sheets like a pair of inexperienced but so very eager and desperate teenagers.

That's not how the scenario had progressed, though, and despite the fact that it was another seven years before she actually got to kiss him, Winry wasn't terribly disappointed with her and Ed's first romantic moment.

In fact, if the others hadn't been around, perhaps Ed's clothes would have '_accidentally'_ slid from his body…

"So, what's it like being a married man?" Winry asked, desperate to change the direction of her thoughts. She didn't want to think about Ed, not in _that_ way…at least not when his younger brother was sitting across from her!

"It's OK." Al said softly. "Noa's great, really. She's come such a long way from when we first met. Did you know she taught herself to speak and read French? And she's really good with the kids. They all adore her."

"She sounds wonderful." Winry said, looking forward to the chance at getting to know Noa better. There hadn't been much time to speak last night outside of the cordial introductions, but when this shopping venture was over and they returned to the apartment there would be nothing but time and Winry truly did want to get to know the Roma woman. After all, Al was practically her little brother which made Noa a sister-in-law of sorts.

"She's psychic, too." Al whispered.

"Excuse me?" Winry wondered.

"Noa's psychic." Al repeated. "Clairvoyant, really. When she touches something she can pick up on the feelings or memories associated with it. She sometimes does it when she touches people, too. If it happens when she touches you or something you own, I just don't want you to freak out."

"Why would I freak out?" Winry asked reluctantly, still not really believing that Al's wife had mental powers.

"Well, she goes sort of funny when stuck in a vision. She'll get really quiet and go stiff, her eyes get unfocused and sometimes she mumbles. It can be a little frightening if you're caught off guard."

"Does it happen often?" Winry asked.

"Not so much now that she spends most of her time in the apartment with the kids. Did I tell you how great she is with them?"

"Yes, Al." Winry said, smiling broadly as her friend blushed. He was gushing terribly about his wife and from the content look in his eyes, Winry knew that her little Alphonse was very much in love with his wife. "You're so cute, Al." Winry teased as she reached over the table to pinch his cheek.

"What's so cute about him?" Ed asked as he rejoined the pair, three cups held delicately in his hands. "Tea for Al, and coffee for me and Winry. You still take yours with all of that shit in it, right?"

"Ed, it's called cream." Winry retorted as she blew over her steaming mug.

"And what's the point of having good coffee if all you're going to dilute it with cream? It changes the flavor and the structure and it just isn't coffee anymore when you mix that junk in it."

"Not all of us have cast-iron guts like you." Winry snorted.

"Damn right!" Ed responded proudly as he gulped half of his coffee. "So, what's so cute about Al, then?"

"Nothing's cute about me." Al said, shooting Winry warning glares but to no avail.

Grinning wickedly, Winry told Ed exactly what was so adorable about his little brother.

"He's just hopelessly head-over-heels crazy in love with his wife, that's all." Winry said through an exaggerated longing sigh. "He sounds just like Mr. Hughes the way he talks about her. Oh! Young love is just so cute! Ed? What's so funny?"

The oldest Elric was doubled over, his hands clutching at his sides as he laughed hysterically. His loud raucous laughter was drawing angry glares from the other café patrons and Al must have been holding his breath because he looked like he had gone purple as he buried his face in his folded arms.

"What's so funny?" Winry demanded again, not liking to be left out of the joke. Ed finally calmed enough to raise his face to her, his mouth still stretched into a large smile as wiped tears out of the corners of his eyes.

"What's wrong, Al? Didn't you tell her?"

"Tell me what?"

"Brother, don't! Just forget it, please."

"Tell me what, Al?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing." Ed gasped as he regained his composure and took another large gulp of his coffee. "It's really nothing. Al loves Noa unconditionally…she just doesn't know it."

"Ed!"

"Alphonse!" Winry scolded sharply as Ed began to laugh again and Al lowered his head in shame. Ignoring the roaring baboon that was sitting beside them, Winry scooted her chair closer to Al and spoke in even, comforting tones. "You haven't told Noa that you love her yet? Why did you get married then, and why did she say yes?"

"I married her to keep her safe." Al said, explaining the reasons behind the nuptials. "I wanted to protect her and right now, marriage is really the only option."

"Did you love her before you asked her to marry you?" Winry wondered.

"Yes! I've love her…for a long time now."

"Well, then why not tell her now?" Winry suggested.

"Because she…" Al cut himself off, his large bronze eyes slanting towards Ed who had managed to stop his laughter for the second time though he was still sputtering occasionally as he tried to occupy his mouth with his coffee.

He wouldn't tell Winry that Noa was in love with Ed.

He couldn't hurt her like that.

Still, the look on Ed's face at learning the truth might have been worth it, but hurting Winry never would be.

"I just don't think she sees me like that." Al offered lamely. "I mean, she knew that it was going to be a marriage in name only and I don't want to spring my feelings on her and make her feel obligated to consummate things."

"Consummate? You mean you haven't…you haven't?" Winry asked with great surprise.

"Can we just eat and forget all of this?" Al asked pathetically, his voice sounding hurt and hollow. Realizing the sore spot she had hit, Winry kissed Al's temple and returned her chair to its proper place before smacking Ed over the head for making an idiot of himself. A comfortably familiar squabble ensued between Ed and Winry and Al sighed in relief.

It wasn't as if Winry wouldn't have found out the situation with Noa eventually, but Ed's mocking laughter and the public venue wasn't how Al had wanted to inform his dearest friend of his marital status. Thankfully, Winry respected his feelings on the subject much better than his own brother did, and she didn't bring up the marriage again, instead continuing to argue with Ed until their breakfast order arrived and Ed fell silent as he proceeded to stuff his face.

"Your table manners are still the same." Winry commented.

"What table manners?" Al mumbled. Winry chuckled, but Ed's munching was so loud that he failed to notice the jab and speared another sausage which he devoured in two ravenous gulps. "So, Winry, tell me about Colonel Mustang. You said he's Amestris's Chancellor now."

"He is." Winry said, noticing that Ed had slowed down his eating so that he could hear her speak. "He really earned the respect of the people during the war. I…I never thought that I'd forgive him for what he did. I mean, how do you look your parents' murderer in the eye and forgive them? It was hard, but he was good to me after grandma died and when I went to the frontlines and he had those officers protecting me…I think being in the middle of the war I started to understand why he did it, and maybe that's why I forgave him."

Ed grunted, his own anger at Mustang's past mistake that so dramatically scarred his friend not so easily soothed.

Winry just ignored him and kept speaking.

"He married Miss Riza."

"What?!" Ed exclaimed. "He actually settled down?"

"They have two little girls."

"He spawned?!"

"Brother…" Al groaned, covering his face in pure mortification as a regally dressed old woman at the table next to them clicked her tongue and muttered to her son about the bad manners of common young people. Ed didn't care about what the old cow thought of his manners and simply stared at Winry with incredulous wide golden eyes.

"What are their names?" Al asked, trying to recover from his embarrassment.

"Collette is two years old, and the newborn they decided to name Sarah. She's just four months."

"Sarah? But that's your…"

"They asked my permission to name her after my mother when Miss Riza learned she was pregnant again. I'm her godmother."

"That's wonderful, Winry!" Al said with genuine enthusiasm.

"Both of them look exactly like their mother."

"Thank God." Ed growled. "Could you imagine if they took after their father? The poor little things would be the ugliest creatures in Amestris."

"Grow up, Ed." Winry said exasperatedly.

"Speaking of people having kids…"

"How're your eggs, Winry?" Ed asked, speaking over his brother with confident ease. Winry nodded at Ed's query to let him know that her food was good, noticing the rather furious look Al shot Ed, and the way that Ed simply ignored his brother.

"Oh! I forgot." Winry said, realizing that if she didn't say something then the rest of the meal would be spent in this tense silence. "I have a message for you, Ed."

"Really? From who?"

"It's nothing special. Truth just wanted me to tell you it says 'hello'."

Ed's consistent chewing stopped and the color drained from his face as he stared at Winry in disbelief.

"You saw Truth?" he chocked.

"When Luther activated the transmutation circle on our side we were brought to that place before the Gate. He talked to Truth and said he would exchange himself for me. Ed, that…_thing_ is the most sadistic…_sick thing_ I've ever seen! It played with the body parts of the SS soldiers that Luther had killed as if they were toys. What is it?!"

"Just what I call it." Ed answered solemnly as he pushed his nearly empty plate away from him, his hunger having vanished. "It's Truth. That thing before the Gate controls everything on our side and this side. It's not human, but it seems to be fascinated with human behavior."

"Yeah. It told me that you were just a selfish brat."

"Doesn't surprise me." Ed commented.

"I told it off." Winry said, earning a surprised look from both brothers. Ed's shock, however, only lasted a fleeting second before her smiled proudly at her leaned forward to push a strand of blond hair behind her ear.

"Only you would have the balls to tell a thing that could very well be God to shove it." Ed joked.

Winry couldn't find words for the moment, enjoying the pride that was shining in the depths of Ed's eyes.

All for her.

She felt a fuzzy, comforting warmth spread throughout her body and very nearly forgot that Al was sitting at the table with them.

"Did anything else happen in that place, Winry? Anything you want to talk about?" Al asked.

"Actually," Winry began, "Luther said something before he died. He asked someone named Ulrich to forgive him. Do either of you know what that means."

"Not me." Al answered. He had only ever met Luther Austerlitz once in the six months that he had been a part of Ed's organization and the man hadn't been especially forthcoming about anything that didn't involve orders.

He and Ed were like that in several ways.

"I do." Ed offered. "Luther had an older brother, Ulrich. About six years ago, Ulrich was shot outside of bar in Offenburg by officers."

"For what?" Winry demanded.

"For kissing."

"Kissing? What sort of barbaric place is this?!" Winry cried.

"For kissing a man," Ed clarified, "and in public street, no less."

"So he was homosexual. That's not a crime. You mean here it's a crime?"

"Not an actual written one, at least not yet." Ed answered. "The people here have some major issue with homosexuality. They think it's like a disease or something. The stupid thing is, if you look back to this world's history there have been homosexuals for centuries, some of them this world's great leaders. But people here are really…conservative. It's become a don't ask, don't tell situation."

"More like don't ask, don't tell, don't get caught." Winry observed.

"Luther saw his brother get gunned down that night and felt responsible. I think he's been trying to find redemption ever since."

"Maybe that's why he came for me." Winry whispered. "Maybe that's why he sacrificed himself to save me."

The three friends were silent for a long while before Ed shifted and took something out of his coat pocket.

He was holding Luther's silver pocket watch in the palm of his automail hand and looking at it with deep concentration before appearing to come to some sort of important conclusion.

"Take his watch, Winry." Ed instructed, placing the timepiece by her breakfast plate. She didn't argue with Ed, glad to be given a piece of the man that had given his life for her. Taking the watch, Winry put it in her new clutch and smiled. She had made her peace with what Luther had done for her, determined not to see his sacrifice be in vain.

She was going to stick by Ed's side, no matter how much he tried to shake her off.

"Well, let's finish up." Ed declared. "We still have to get you a coat and a few more outfits. We'll have to get you all the other girly things that women need."

Winry just rolled her eyes and didn't even bother to reply.

* * *

"Just get whatever else you need, Winry. Al and I will be by the door."

"I won't be long." Winry promised.

It was the last shop on their route. Over the course of the day Ed had ensured that Winry was supplied with all manner of clothing, accessories and a pair of men's boots, her own bed linens, undergarments, ribbons for her hair, even a few new tools and oils. Finally, all they needed was a few toiletries, including a hair brush, toothbrush and various soaps. Laden with all sorts of boxes and paper bags, Winry could just imagine how eager Ed and Al were for the shopping day to be finished.

They had had a very brief lunch of fruit, bread and cheese and now it was nearing six o'clock and all three were famished. While the day had been immensely enjoyable, Winry was glad to see it was ending. She had never been one for overly feminine activities like shopping, preferring to work on her automail or play football with the boys in town or talk shop with other mechanics. It would be nice when they were all back at the apartment.

Winry was really looking forward to meeting the children and speaking with Noa.

She was looking forward to having a family again.

And it was that thought that led Winry to an important conclusion concerning herself and Ed.

She was going to forgive him.

Not that she had believed that she wouldn't forgive him for all of the reasons she was angry with him, his bull-headed decision to keep her out of his affairs when he wandered as a State Alchemist the most prominent. But Winry didn't think she would be willing to forgive Ed so soon after their reunion, yet here she was not even a full day later and she was ready to wipe the slate clean with her oldest friend.

He had changed. Matured and grown, both figuratively and literally. Winry stopped herself from chuckling as she reminded herself that Ed was now a giant five inches taller than her. He had become a man, and a man of average height no less! His chin was far more angular and chiseled, and his cheeks grew the most adorable blond stubble, though he was doing his best to keep clean-shaven and groomed. He had always been handsome and now he was simply beautiful, so much so that Winry had found herself just staring at him several times over the course of the day. He would tease her and joke with her, and he still bantered wonderfully, as if they had never been apart. Being with Ed again was like falling into one's own bed: comfortable, warm and safe. How could she stay mad at him?

She would forgive Ed anything in the end, but on the verge of their new adventure in this world beyond the Gate, Winry had made up her mind that she would let the past rest and instead move ahead into the future, Ed's hand clasped reassuringly in hers.

Getting her few items as quickly as possible, and blushing when her stomach growled so loudly that the sales clerk gave her a teasing smile, Winry strode back towards the Elric brothers, glad that she had somewhat mastered the art of walking in high-heels without tripping. She only wobbled a little, but maintained her balance as she neared the door. Just when she was about to call out to Ed and Al, a snippet of their conversation caught her attention and she stopped suddenly, hidden partially from view by a display of perfumes.

"…embarrassing me about Noa like that. And you're just being a hypocrite, Brother. You haven't come clean about your feelings for Winry, have you?"

"I kissed her last night, didn't I?" Ed retorted with a pout.

"Oh please! That kiss was ten years overdue in the first place. That was bound to happen, but you still haven't actually said how you feel. Yesterday we thought we'd never see Winry again, and now here she is. And she likes you, Brother. A lot."

"Al…"

"Which is why you need to tell her."

"I promise to tell Winry how I feel about her soon. It'll take some time, OK?"

Winry couldn't help smiling affectionately at Ed. Even as a twenty-three year old man he was still rather hopeless when it came to her. That was fine. She'd be patient with him.

"I don't mean that." Al said firmly, his voice cutting through Winry's soft feelings for Ed as effectively as a bullet through a paper target.

There was something else?!

Another secret…

"I know what you mean, Al" Ed said after a momentary pause.

"Are you going to tell her?"

"Don't have much choice. She'll find out on her own anyway." Ed grumbled.

"But are you going to _tell her_. You know, before she finds out on her own?"

"For the love of fucking Christ, Al! I swear on Mom's grave that I'll tell Winry before she finds out on her own!" Ed cried out exasperatedly. "Happy?"  
"Yes. Where is Winry, anyway? She should be done by now." Al said, twisting his head around and scanning the shop for Winry. Ducking a little further behind the perfume display, Winry took a moment to collect herself before joining the brothers.

So, Ed had another secret, one she was inevitably going to discover whether he told her or not it seemed. Feeling a little deflated, Winry acknowledged that some things just stayed the same even after five years of separation. Ed had always had his secrets from her, even when they were children. She hadn't pried, showing respect for Ed and his privacy, but that didn't mean that his choice not to share things with her didn't hurt.

However, he did confess that he was going to tell her, and that confession alone was something Ed wouldn't have even considered five years ago. It was a sign of maturity…and he had said that he had feelings for her…feelings which she strongly believed were akin to her own…

Biting down on all of the negative emotions that were swelling within her, Winry resolved to give Ed the benefit of the doubt. He was keeping a secret from her, but he was going to tell her. She could wait.

And she wouldn't get mad at him.

Nodding to herself in acceptance of her decision, Winry emerged from her hiding spot, and continued towards the Elrics as if nothing had transpired.

"Let's go, guys." she said through a happy huff.

"Finally!" Ed exclaimed, leading the trio out of the shop and back towards home.

* * *

They had just made it to the seventh floor, puffed out and exhausted as they had been burdened with so many packages while climbing the stairs. Taking a moment to catch their breath, Ed, Al and Winry reclined against the hall wall, breathing deeply.

"I never want to see another fucking shopping bag as long as I live." Ed announced.

"Same here." Winry agreed, though Ed threw her a disbelieving glare.

"I'll get these." Al said eagerly, snatching all of the packages and making his way to their apartment a few doors down. Winry didn't miss the urgent look Al shot at his brother, just as she wasn't ignorant of the fact that Al had lagged behind her and Ed during their walk back to the apartment, thus granting his brother a somewhat private opportunity to tell Winry of his secret, whatever it may be.

He hadn't.

Al turned the key in the lock and walked into the apartment and left the door agape, leaving Ed and Winry alone in the hallway. For a few moments, neither adult said a word. Winry waited, hoping Ed would finally tell her what his secret was, but the young man seemed to be oddly interested in his shoes at the moment. Realizing that he wasn't ready to tell her, Winry swallowed her disappointment and pushed away from the wall and began to make her way towards the open apartment door.

"Come on, Ed." Winry said. "I'm hungry."

"Wait, Win!" Ed called urgently, taking her arm in his automail hand, the cool press of the metal sinking into her skin through the blouse and calming her nerves. Ed's eyes were hot and intent, flickering with nervousness and trepidation and it frightened Winry a little. Whatever the secret Ed had to confess it was most certainly important.

Still, he hesitated.

Suspecting that he wanted absolute privacy, Winry reached out to close the apartment door so that the others wouldn't catch any of Ed's words.

"No, don't!" Ed cried, stepping closer to stop Winry from touching the door, bringing his body into the door frame.

"Ha!" an excitable little voice cried, followed immediately by rushing footsteps. Winry spotted a flash of yellow launch itself at Ed's legs so hard that the twenty-three year old staggered a little, but he maintained his balance and looked at Winry with wide, completely horrified eyes.

Winry's face dropped, not understanding why Ed was so afraid.

He looked down at the child holding his leg in a fierce hug and Winry followed suit.

Blond hair.

It was the youngest of the children, the child that Al had been carrying around in the bunker earlier in the morning.

"Daddy!" the boy cried in a delighted high pitched voice that seemed to echo off every wall in the building.

Feeling her stomach bottom out, Winry stared as the boy lifted his face from Ed's leg to look up at him.

She gasped and stepped back.

If Ed had not been standing before her as a man she would have easily believed that the child was her dear friend returned to his three year old self. The same round face, the same wide grinning mouth, the same upturned nose, the same haphazard yellow hair and the same large golden eyes.

Daddy?

Unable to speak, Winry looked up from the boy to find that Ed was staring at her with a sad, guilty expression, his mouth pressed into a grim line and his eyes half lidded in apology.

She didn't have to ask him.

"Winry, this is Eddie. He's my son."

* * *

_Well, did that freak everyone out?_

_Good._

_In case anyone is wondering, Ed was always meant to have a child in the fic so it's not some random plot bunny I stuck in here. The only issue was I had trouble deciding if I wanted Ed to have a girl or a boy, but the thought of a chibi-Ed (who goes by Eddie) running around Germany was just too hard to resist. While working out plot and characteriztion for this fic, I tried to determine why Ed would have matured so much in the five years that he and Al had been living on our side of the Gate. While working for a secert organization and tryign to stop the SS from gaining high political office is a huge thing, I realized that it wasn't very different from the stuff Ed was doing as a State Alchemist. I needed something more, something more personal and life-altering and that's how Little Eddie was born. _

_The next chapter, of course, will detail Winry's reaction to Ed's fatherhood. Will she and Eddie get along? Will Winry accept that Ed had tried to move on without her? And where (and who) is Eddie's mother?_

_Most of these questions will be answered in the next chapter._

_Mostly..._

_To all of my reviewes, thank you so much for your comments, opinions and general enthusiasm for this fic. _

_If you liked this chapter or if you have any questions (thought I'm not promising I'll answer since I don't want to give too much away) take the time to review!_

_No flames, please and thank you!_

_I remain respectfully yours,_

**Giant Nickel**


	11. Eddie

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters affiliated with the series._

**A/N:** _Well, this is it, the chapter where some answers will hopefully be given concerning Ed's son. Now, just to clarify things, Eddie is Ed's son, not an adopted child or the son of Ed's double that Ed is so generously raising. He is the biological son of the Fullmetal Alchemist conceived in the old fashioned way. So, yeah, Ed slept with someone that wasn't Winry. Sorry if that upsets anyone, but you have to remember, neither Ed nor Winry believed they would see the other ever again. As much as I (and I think most of you) would love it if Ed and Winry had remained loyal to the other's memory and waited patiently for the day of reunion that might never come, that's just not how things work in real life. _

_And don't be fooled, because Ed's not the only one who has been finding love in other places over the last five years. Winry doesn't have a kid, mind you, but she has a few skeletons in her closet._

_I've also thrown in a little Al/Noa in the mix, since Ed and Winry are so pissed at each other and there is little time for romance._

_So, hopefully your interest is peaked and you'll want to get to reading._

_I will not hold you up any longer with my long, overly explanatory author's notes._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Eddie**

_Germany _

_24. Sept. 28_

***

Winry felt something inside of her shatter. She could almost see pieces of herself crumble and fall to the floor beneath her feet, scattering all around her as she stood dumbly in the archway of the apartment door.

Ed was looking right back at her, refusing to balk under her confused stare. He had hurt her, terribly as far as he could tell, and now he had to face her and accept whatever consequences she chose to expel.

It was her right.

Still, as Ed witnessed the raw flashes of emotion that crossed over Winry's face as she took in the news that he was a father, he felt as if he might spiral out of existence, unable to anchor to anything on earth except for her blue eyes.

He had hurt her.

He always hurt her.

And this time, he had hurt her in the most spectacular way, even more so than when he broke his automail.

"Daddy?" Eddie asked, tugging insistently on his father's pant leg.

Shamed so badly by how Winry was still looking at him with dark, accusing eyes, Ed finally turned away and crouched slightly so that he could place a large, warm hand on the crown of Eddie's head. The child was clutching at his father and pressing his face deeply into Ed's left leg.

"What is it?" Ed asked brokenly.

Looking up at his father, Eddie slowly turned his attention over to Winry and gave her a tentative once-over before returning his golden gaze to Ed.

"Who's that?"

"Oh…" Ed sighed, daring to look at Winry again. Eddie followed his father's example and stared at Winry with innocent curiosity, his large eyes blinking as he waited for an answer.

Winry had to stifle a cry as identical pairs of molten gold eyes looked up at her.

It was too much!

"This is Winry, son. She's a good friend of Daddy's."

Pursing his lips as his young mind came to a quick conclusion, Eddie took a single step away from Ed, still keeping one hand bunched in the material of his father's trousers. He raised a tiny hand towards Winry and waved.

"Hi."

"Come on, Eddie." Ed said, steering the child back into the apartment. "I bet Auntie Noa made something good for dinner."

"Stew!" Eddie answered cheerfully.

Ed couldn't help smiling.

"Sounds good."

Eddie nodded vigorously and rushed back into the apartment. Watching his son take his place at the table, Ed turned his attention back to Winry and was surprised to see her follow the child into the apartment and make her way towards the others in the kitchen.

She hadn't barraged him with questions. Or demanded answers. Or beat him over the head with one of her cursed tools.

She did nothing. She didn't even speak.

This wasn't good.

"Mr. Edward!" Yafit called happily. "Guess what?"

"What?" Ed answered, his focus barely on the child as he watched Winry with intense caution, still waiting for her reaction. Her back was to him and she was standing near the table, though she made no move to sit down.

What was she thinking?

"I lost a tooth. See? And that was my first lost tooth so that means I'm getting bigger." Yafit exclaimed happily.

"No it doesn't." Ruth griped as she set the table for dinner.

"Yes it does! Mr. Al told me so and he doesn't lie." Yafit proclaimed with such sure confidence that Al couldn't help the blush that rose to his cheeks. He and Noa were standing by the stove, Noa stirring the stew and Al making up a plate of bread and cheese. They were standing close to one another, their arms brushing together every so often which only increased the rouge of Al's blush.

Had he not been so shy, he might have looked over and noticed that Noa was blushing just as intensely.

"Is the table set?" Noa asked.

"Plates are down, but the silverware seems to have disappeared." Ruth said in a teasing manner.

"I'm coming!" Paz roared, a handful of utensils gripped tightly in his left hand and an open book of poetry in his right. It was obvious that the poetry was of greater importance to the twelve year old than the spoons, forks and knives. He didn't notice as Ruth rolled her eyes in his direction, and he was so absorbed in the passage he was reading that he nearly missed his chair when he tried to sit down.

"Here we are." Noa said as she placed a ceramic tureen in the centre of the table. She began to ladle the stew onto the plates with a practiced hand.

"Up we get, little man." Al said fondly as he picked Eddie up and sat him on a dictionary that was used as a makeshift booster seat. Eddie chuckled and lightly tapped his spoon on the table as he waited for Noa to give him his portion of stew. Al ruffled the boy's hair and was about to take his seat when he noticed that Ed and Winry hadn't made a sound or gesture to join them. Looking up, Al froze as he saw his brother and close friend.

Winry was standing with her back to the table, her arms crossed, her back stiff and her shoulders quaking slightly as she suppressed whatever strong emotion she was feeling. Ed was simply standing a few feet away from her, his posture resigned and tense, like a guilty child waiting for his deserved punishment.

Al couldn't help feeling pity for his older brother. After all, when it came to Winry, Ed just never seemed to get it right. He always ended up upsetting her, or hurting her, or just completely screwing up the moment. However, another part of Al, a quieter, perhaps darker part of his heart, knew that whatever turmoil his brother must be feeling, it was all Ed's own fault.

He should have told her sooner.

After all, Eddie was nothing to be ashamed of.

"Al?" Winry asked.

Her voice sounded shaky but controlled. The bit of distress that touched her tone alerted everyone at the table save for Eddie and Yafit who continued to eat merrily. The others turned their attention to the two blonds.

"Yes, Winry."

"Could you tell me where your bedroom is? I'm tired and I'd like to lie down."

"But Winry, won't you have dinner, first?" Noa asked in her calm, understanding voice.

"No thank you, Noa. I would really just like to lie down."

"Of course." Noa answered, touching her husband's arm lightly to indicate that he had best comply with Winry's wishes.

"It's the door just in front of you, Winry. Sleep well."

And without uttering a 'thank you' Winry made her way towards the door and disappeared inside the chamber. The door clicked shut softly, but from the look on Ed's face, Winry had as good as struck him with her wrench.

"Edward?" Noa asked.

For a moment, Ed said nothing and Al thought that his brother might also retreat to a bedroom. But Ed gave his head a quick little shake, pulled back his shoulders, and turned towards the table, taking his seat beside his son.

"Is it good?" Ed asked, his voice sounding strained as he struggled to appear unaffected by Winry's retreat.

"It's good!" Eddie reported with great enthusiasm, flashing his father a wonderfully bright smile. The corners of his mouth and chin were covered in gravy, and Ed raised his flesh hand to gently wipe away the mess before kissing his child on the forehead and digging in to his own dinner.

* * *

Winry lay on her side, her body curled up in a fetal position as her mind traveled foggily between the worlds of sleep and awareness. She hadn't actually fallen asleep, but her mind seemed to lazily wander until she lost all track of the reality around her. She was aware that, at some point, Al had crept into the bedroom to store the clothing and goods that Ed had purchased for her, and every once and while she would hear the children playing. She would hear Yafit whine to Al and Noa about the injustices forced upon her by the others kids, or the heated arguments that seemed to dominate all communication between Paz and Ruth.

And then she would hear laughter.

It was a happy, tinkling sound that filled Winry with such emotion that her body would begin to shake violently, causing the headboard to tap against the wall.

It was just like _his_ laughter, and it brought back memories of eternal summers, green grass, blue skies and the sound of children as they discovered the surrounding farmland, mountain caves and deep spring pools.

When they were young, the world was one big adventure for the three friends, but on the day that news arrived of her parents' death, it had seemed like all the laughter left the hills of Resembool. Winry didn't know if she would ever recover from such a loss, but she still had her grandmother and her dog and of course, she had her best friends who lived just down the way. She had come to understand that life was still wonderful, that she could laugh again, that everything didn't have to stop under the weight of her sorrow, and it was thanks to Ed and Al that Winry had discovered that fundamental truth.

And to hear Eddie's laughter brought back all of those memories and feelings, but to know that the laughter, laughter that was so much like Ed's when he was a boy, came from his son…Winry couldn't even begin to get her thoughts sorted on that matter.

In some ways, she was relieved.

Ed hadn't waited for her, had likely believed that their being together again would never happen…and so he had tried to move on.

She couldn't blame him.

After all, she had done the same…

But Ed hadn't said a word!

They had been together all last night in the bunker and then all day out in Berlin and he still never said anything about being a father. Al had even given Ed the best opportunities that he could, but still, the stubborn moron of an alchemist never said a word.

And she had kissed him.

Kissed him when he could very well be in a relationship with another woman.

And he hadn't said a word.

The jackass.

"Winry?"

Looking up at the door, Winry was surprised to find Noa had walked into the bedroom, a bowl of steaming food in her hands.

"May I come in?" the Roma woman inquired.

Feeling sluggish but no longer wanting to be alone with her thoughts, Winry sat up on the bed and ushered Noa inside. Closing the door behind her, Noa turned on a few lamps before going to Winry, sitting on the edge of the bed opposite her so that they were facing one another.

"Here." Noa said, offering Winry the bowl. "You should eat something. It will help."

Knowing the woman's words to be true, Winry accepted the bowl of stew and took one bite after another, slow at first but quickly gaining energy as she came to realize that she was famished, her body relishing the nourishment it was finally receiving.

"Would you like some bread?" Noa wondered. Nodding, Winry almost chuckled when Noa produced two buns from the pockets of the apron she wore.

"Thank you." Winry finally said as she placed the empty bowl on the side table between the two beds. "How long have I been in here?"

"A few hours…Edward has been in his bedroom for a long while as well."

"Ah." Winry answered lowly. Swallowing the angry words resting on her tongue, Winry took a moment to study the woman who had become Al's wife.

In many ways, Noa reminded Winry of Rose from Lior, each woman possessing that mysterious dark exotic beauty. She had skin the color of cacao, with long black eyelashes that framed wise dark eyes the color of roasted hazelnuts. Her cheek bones were high and sculpted, as was her prim nose and her lips were full and lush. Her hair was very thick and fell down her back in chocolate waves, and there was something about her…an aura that radiated such a soothing peace that Winry felt her muscles begin to relax and the strength of her hurt feelings began to subside.

They were still there, lingering, only not as strong as they had been.

It gave Winry the encouragement to speak.

"Um, where are the Hughes? I didn't see them." Winry started.

"Mr. Hughes thought it best that he and his family retreat to Hanover. It seems they had told authorities in Magdeburg that they would be there visiting Gracia's mother and so they left in case someone went looking for them."

Winry didn't have to inquire just who might be looking for Maes Hughes and his family. She didn't want to think about Kluge and quickly wracked her mind for a different subject.

"So, Al tells me you're psychic." Winry spouted without much thought, not even bothering to hide the obvious disbelief from her voice.

"I am." Noa answered calmly. "Would you like me to show you?"

"How?"

"Just give me your hand."

Unsure, Winry offered Noa her open palm. The Roma woman took the hand and held it in both of her own. Closing her eyes, Noa concentrated, her powers reaching out and wrapping around Winry. Flashes of sharp feelings reached the gypsy woman, feelings that weren't her own. As quickly as a passing train, images came to Noa's mind of a little girl with sunshine blond hair playing in a green field with two little boys, a large, loyal dog with one mechanical limb, a wrinkled old woman who smelled of tobacco and oil, and a small baby girl with large, responsive brown eyes and a soft bald head.

The baby's gurgling greeting was the last memory Noa was able to grasp before her powers receded.

She released Winry's hand and stared at the young woman whose look of shock indicated that she had felt the jolt of psychic energy swiftly wash in and out of her body. Noa waited as Winry's mind accepted what had just happened before speaking softly.

"Who was the baby girl?"

"My goddaughter." Winry whispered. "Her name's Sarah."

"You miss her greatly."

Winry nodded. Seeing Eddie reminded Winry of the two Mustang girls she had left behind, most likely to never see again.

For the first time since being on this side of the Gate, Winry began to miss what she had forsaken in her blind desire to find Ed and Al. She did not need to ask herself if the sacrifice was worth it, however. Even though she was hurting, Winry truly believed she would suffer anything as long as it meant remaining with the Elrics.

They were her family, after all.

"Noa…could you tell me about Eddie's mother?" Winry asked tentatively.

"I don't believe that's my place." Noa responded.

"Then...could you tell me where she is? Are she and Ed…are they…"

"Edward is not with Eddie's mother." Noa supplied, freeing Winry of the difficulty of having to ask such a personally hard question.

"Alright." Winry sighed, ashamed of the relief she felt knowing Ed was not with another woman. She shouldn't feel so relieved since Eddie should have his mother involved in his life, but Winry couldn't help herself, a small, button-sized blossom of hope budding in her heart.

She was still furious, however, and didn't acknowledge that hope.

She would rather be angry at the moment.

"I guess I should go set up a bed on the chesterfield." Winry sighed.

"Don't worry about that. You'll sleep right here on that bed." Noa insisted.

"No, it's alright. I don't want to put the children out of their bed."

"The children don't sleep in the bed." Noa said. "See the pallet in the corner?"

Winry turned and spotted the rumpled pile of bed sheets before turning quizzical eyes on the Roma woman.

"Then who sleeps in this bed?" Winry asked.

"Alphonse."

"And so, who sleeps in that bed?" Winry wondered, pointing to the bed that Noa was sitting on. Blushing slightly, Noa turned her gaze away.

"I do." she said in a voice softer than a whisper.

"OH!" Winry cried, embarrassed by how surprised she sounded at learning that Al and his wife didn't sleep in the same bed. She should have known, considering Al had explained that his marriage was unconsummated and in name only, but still, Winry had expected them to at least sleep in the same bed…

"Alphonse told you of our arrangement?" Noa questioned, her voice soft and shy. But there was something else Winry recognized in Noa's voice, something that she was all too familiar with.

Pain.

"Noa?" Winry broached, placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "You and Al…are you alright with everything? Is _this_ how you want things to be?"

Winry didn't know how else to express the situation between Al and Noa. What she did know, however, was that Al was as good as her younger brother and she wanted what was best for him, including the right woman. Noa seemed like the one for Al, except there was something that wasn't being said…something that was casting a shadow over the Roma woman's eyes. It was the same shadow Winry had seen in Al's eyes earlier at breakfast.

What was going on between these two?

"I'll leave you now." Noa said, politely ignoring Winry's question as she stood to leave. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Winry answered back, her heart and mind so heavy with the events of the day that it didn't take much effort for the young woman to curl up on the bed and fall fast asleep.

* * *

_Germany _

_25. Sept. 28_

***

Winry lay in bed, waiting.

Listening.

She could hear their voices, only slightly muffled by the closed door, and they were talking about her. The little girl, the one who hung off of Al as if he was a favorite toy, kept asking where the 'new lady' was. Noa and Al had answered several times that their guest was very tired and still in bed which satisfied the girl for all of ten minutes before she was asking for the 'new lady' again. Even tucked away in the bedroom, Winry could pick up the cautious, overly gentle tones of Al and Noa as they struggled to placate the child while at the same time not disturb the silent party in the room.

Ed was still in the apartment. Winry could feel his presence, his spirit seeming to reach out for her in a fumbled desperation that neither could explain and which both feared.

He was angry.

She was angry.

They were both furious with the same person.

Winry couldn't channel her hurt rage, devastated that Ed would keep his own son a secret from her until the last possible moment. And having known Ed for years, Winry knew Ed was just as angry at himself, likely for the same reasons as her own, but there was something else upsetting Ed…something darker and fearful…

But Winry was too angry to bother learning what could have Ed drowning in his guilt. She couldn't even bear to face him, which is why she was still laying in Al's bed well after early morning, just waiting for Ed to leave.

She had to get herself together before she even attempted to speak to the alchemist again. She could hear Ed sipping his coffee and quietly answering Al's gentle questions.

She could hear Eddie's laughter, too. The child sounded so happy that Winry didn't know if she wanted him to continue or stop. The tinkling giggle brought back so many happy memories and yet, reflecting on those times long past made Winry's heart lurch with the pain of losing such innocence. She could remember laughing with Ed when they were kids, knowing nothing but each other and Resembool and perhaps the odd alchemic formula or series number of screwdrivers.

She had been happy as a girl…and when she thought about it, Winry realized that she had never laughed quite that whole-heartedly since those sunny, innocent days.

Had she been unhappy for so long?

"Winry." Al called tentatively as he tapped on the bedroom door before opening it a crack. "Ed's gone out. He said to tell you he won't be back until after dark. Did…did you want to come out?"

Looking at the door, Winry spotted Al's head peeking in on her, his eyes large and concerned but also resigned to accept any decision she made.

"I'll just get dressed." Winry responded, knowing she couldn't hide forever. Besides, the one she was hiding from had left.

"OK. The kids really want to meet you, so, I'm just warning you. Yafit can be pretty enthusiastic."

"That's alright, Al, I want to meet them. _All_ of them."

Winry felt that need to stress her willingness and even desire to properly meet Ed's son.

It was important to her.

Al closed the door and Winry dressed quickly in another horrid skirt and blouse although this time she discarded the stockings and put on a pair of slippers in favor of the high heels before steeling her nerves and going into the kitchen.

"The lady's awake!" the chubby blond child cheered. "Good morning! You slept late."

"Because she was tired, Yafit." the older girl groaned, obviously annoyed by the child.

"I know!" Yafit barked back before sticking out her tongue.

"Good morning." Winry greeted. "Is there any coffee?"

"Coming, Winry." Noa answered. "Al's making you some eggs and toast."

"Thanks."

Taking a seat, Winry was amused by the four pair of eyes that regarded her.

"Hello."

"I'm Yafit. I'm six." the blond girl announced proudly.

"It's nice to meet you." Winry said, nodding her head at the six year old.

"I'm Ruth." the antagonistic older girl announced. She stuck out a hand for Winry to shake. Taking Ruth's offered hand, Winry didn't fail to notice the overly tight grip the girl had or the suspicious look she was throwing at her. Winry recognized the harsh glint in Ruth's hazel eyes. She had seen the same sort of eyes on the faces of many war orphans, the ones left behind to witness the atrocities of mankind. Ruth was just like those orphans, a child trying to make sense of the world by acting as adult as possible. It made Winry wonder just what Ruth had experienced to give her such eyes.

"I'm Paz. I'm the oldest." the boy who was seated at Winry's right side declared pompously.

"Nobody cares." Ruth snapped.

"You're just mad you're not the oldest." Paz drawled.

"I'm not!" Ruth yelled and a quarrel soon ensued while Yafit sat lazily by and watched eagerly to see which of the pair would triumph in their verbal brawl.

As this was happening, Winry turned her attention to the final child seated at her left. He was sitting on a dictionary that granted him easy access to the table, his hands delving into a bowl of applesauce. He was managing to get most of the food into his mouth though Winry could spot splotches of applesauce in his golden hair and all over his face. When he noticed he was being watched, Eddie stopped his movements and looked at Winry a moment before digging his chin into his chest and darting his eyes away shyly.

"Hello, Eddie." Winry said in a soft voice. The boy continued to keep his head down, uncertain. Slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal, Winry used her fingers to wipe away a clump of applesauce that found itself on Eddie's nose. That gentle gesture earned her the child's regard. Catching her breath, still stunned at just how much Eddie resembled his father, Winry brought her head close to the boy's and spoke in a high whisper. "Do you remember me? From last night? I'm your Daddy's friend."

Eddie lifted his head and sucked on his bottom lip as his memory recalled the night before.

"Winnie." Eddie announced, waiting to see if he was correct. Smiling, Winry began to wipe away the remaining applesauce from the boy's face.

"That's right, I'm Winnie. And how old are you, Eddie?"

"This much." Eddie said, holding up three fingers with enthusiastic pride.

"Wow! That much already?" Winry asked.

"How much is you?"

Winry held up eight fingers and two thumbs. "More than this many." she said excitedly and everyone chuckled at the astounded look the boy gave Winry.

"Come on, chum, let's get you washed up." Al said, lifting the toddler into his arms.

"Uncle Al," Eddie said before they left the kitchen, "Winnie's old."

Al barked out a great chuckle and turned to look at his childhood friend who was blushing prettily from the innocent comment.

"You're right, Eddie. She's a real old hag."

Al barely dodged the dictionary Winry threw at his head.

* * *

Al and Noa sat together at the kitchen table drinking tea and idly watching the children play in the sitting room. The sun was almost set, causing a hypnotizing array of orange, yellow and pink light to dance over the rooftops of Berlin. Taking a moment to admire the scene, Al couldn't help his mind from comparing the friendship between himself, his brother and Winry Rockbell to the colors of the sunset.

Al was yellow, happy and beaming, bringing calm and cheeriness to all he touched throughout the day.

Ed was orange, fiery and passionate, making one's heart burn with strength and determination, the last color to disappear before twilight.

And Winry was pink, the sweet balm that engulfed yellow and orange in her embrace and cradled them home beyond the horizon..

The yellow would readily give in to the pink, but orange would struggle and resist until it was so deeply entangled with the pink that a new color, a breath-stealing red, would dominate the skies.

"What are you contemplating, Alphonse?" Noa asked.

"I was just thinking," Al began, "that the orange and pink of the sunset try so hard to be apart from each other but in the end they blend together to make something more beautiful than either could ever be alone.

"Ed and Winry are like that. They always have been."

Noa nodded her understanding and sipped her tea. She appreciated her husband's honesty, relishing the fact that he didn't censor his thoughts from her. Alphonse Elric was a very insightful, philosophical young man. Edward attributed his brother's compelling prose to their scholarly father, but Al had quietly admitted that his years as a soul trapped in a suit of armor offered him too many hours to think and study the questions of life.

Sometimes, Noa worried that Alphonse thought too much.

The gentle humming of a foreign tune reached Noa's ears and she turned her head towards the locked bathroom door where Winry had retreated to take a shower.

"It's a lullaby her grandmother used to sing to us." Al answered before Noa could ask.

"It's lovely." Noa sighed. "Everything seemed to go well today."

Indeed, once Winry had been introduced to the children an easy calm had fallen over the apartment. The three adults spoke for several long hours, occasionally interrupted by a fight between Ruth and Paz or a complaint from Yafit. At three years old, Eddie had little to complain about unless one of the his toys was stolen by the others, and so he remained cheerfully content to build castles with his blocks and knock them down with his brigade of tin soldiers. Winry, it appeared, had taken to all four of the children, playing a few games of cards with the older two after lunch and reading several Grimm Brothers fairy tales to the younger two at nap time. Eddie appeared comfortable around Winry, but it was plain to see that he still didn't quite understand the role this new family member was to play.

Much as it pained Noa, she knew what had to be done.

"Tomorrow we must go and purchase supplies for the children." Noa commented, attempting to sound casual. "We should take the three older ones with us."

"But why? We know their proper shoe sizes and clothing preference, why do…" Al trailed off when he noticed Noa's eyes lock on the bathroom door, Winry's voice still softly chiming from behind it. "Noa…"

"She and Eddie need to bond. Alone." Noa stressed, yet even as she spoke the words her hands were trembling. She tried to take another sip of tea but her fingers wouldn't stop quaking. Al reached across the table and took her hand, his calloused thumb running along her knuckles in a deeply soothing motion. Needing his strength, Noa placed her other hand atop his and smiled when Al smoothly placed his free hand over hers so that they were piled over one another.

Seeing his hands encasing hers, his so pale and hers so dark, Noa thanked her ancestors for bringing this man into her life. He was her constant and formidable pillar of pure strength, giving her the courage to refrain from selfishness and do what was right.

"Noa, you don't have to…"

"Yes, I do."

"But you shouldn't feel like you have to. Winry's not territorial unless it comes to her automail or Brother." Al assured.

"But that's just it, Alphonse. If she is possessive of Edward then eventually she will become possessive towards his son because…because she'll come to think of Eddie as _her_ son. And that's how it should be. That's how it _will_ be."

"Oh, Noa…" Al sighed, squeezing her hands tightly. He couldn't argue with his wife's logic. After all, she was right. Still, "You're the only mother figure Eddie's ever had."

"I knew it wouldn't last forever…I'm Eddie's aunt, not his mother."

"Neither is…"

"She will be." Noa said confidently.

"Can you see that with your psychic powers?" Al asked teasingly, glad to see that Noa was bravely facing the difficult situation before her. Al knew his wife adored Eddie and she doted on the child constantly, understanding that she was the only female care-giver in the three year old's life.

But now Winry was here.

Winry.

The woman Ed loved and wanted to be with.

Al suddenly slipped his hands out of Noa's and returned them to his lap as he was flooded with startling clarity.

Ed, once he and Winry were through ignoring each other and actually talked, would be with his childhood sweetheart and Noa would have to step back and simply be a witness to their happiness. Al could understand the pain of seeing the one you loved fall in love with another, and despite the tiniest residue of resentment he had for Noa's feelings for Ed, Al's heart broke for the forlorn Roma woman simply because he loathed seeing her in pain. If only he could tell her how he felt and have her return his feelings, he would see to it that Noa never hurt again.

If only…

"Well," Al said, needing to do something to relieve the melancholy that had taken hold of him, "I hope Ed and Winry work things out soon, then maybe I won't have to spend too many nights on that couch. I think there's a broken spring. Something was digging into my back all night."

"For goodness sake, Alphonse, you don't have to sleep on the couch." Noa tsked with mild annoyance.

"Oh yeah? And just where am I supposed to sleep?" Al answered back playfully.

"With me…" Noa said before a wide-eyed look of horror washed over her face when she realized what she had said.

Al's eyes were just as wide and startled, his pupils dilated and his mouth a hard, frozen line.

"Noa…" he nearly growled, his voice low…hoarse. "What are you saying?"

"I…I…" Noa struggled to form coherent words. She hadn't meant to say such a thing aloud, but she had and now Al was suspicious.

Was this the moment she would finally confess her love to Alphonse? Would she have the courage to lay bare her heart and risk his loathing? Was there even the slightest chance that he felt the same why for her?

The way he was very nearly trembling as he waited for Noa to speak…the fire that burned in his whiskey colored eyes…the way he was leaning towards her…perhaps he did care for her the way she wished he would.

"Alphonse…if you want…I would like…please…come to bed with…"

"That's much better!" Winry trilled as she emerged from the bathroom, her body snug in a warm cotton robe and her hair wrapped in a blue towel. She never noticed the strange, defeated expressions on the faces of Al and Noa or how the married couple didn't directly look, touch or speak to one another for the rest of the night. And when Al took out a pillow and quilt and began to prepare the chesterfield for another night of uncomfortable, spring poking rest, Winry was completely oblivious.

* * *

_Germany _

_26. Sept. 28_

***

"We won't be gone very long, Winry." Noa assured as she did up the buttons on Yafit's coat.

"But why don't we all go?" Winry suggested.

"Can't." was Al's brisk answer as he adjusted the collar of his jacket. "Don't let anyone in and we'll be back in a few hours. You and Eddie have fun!"

"Alphonse Elric!" Winry bellowed, but the rest of her threat was drowned out by the shuffling feet of five people and the clunk of a closed door. Winry was livid, her reality momentarily suspended as she realized that Alphonse, the _nice_ Elric, had just shut a door in her face.

'_He's picked up too many bad habits from Ed_.' Winry thought furiously before a sickening feeling gripped her.

Not only were Al, Noa and the three older children gone, but Ed was gone, too, having left before dawn, not bothering to see or speak to her. Since learning about Eddie, both adults had gone out of their way to avoid each other, but Winry knew that the time was fast approaching that they would have to come together and face the challenges that stood in the way of their reconciliation.

They needed to talk.

Soon.

Last night had been a good opportunity, but Winry had still been unable to get past her hurt feelings in order to rationally confront Ed. He too, didn't seem eager to begin the long and arduous conversation that was so plainly in their future.

He had returned long after everyone had retired for the night, slipping in so stealthily that Winry hadn't heard his automail foot along the wooden floor. It had been just after two in the morning, after hours of tossing and turning, that Winry had crept out of bed and sat by the window in the main room, trying to organize the plethora of thoughts that were jumping around in her exhausted mind…

* * *

_Winry pressed her flushed brow against the cool glass, her breath casting a circle of fog along the flat surface. Al's light snores were the only sound in the room and the poor man had such an uncomfortable grimace on his face that Winry decided she would insist he sleep in his own bed the following night while she took her turn on the chesterfield. _

_Her arrival to the Elric household seemed to have slightly disturbed the sleeping arrangements with Paz now having to bunk down on the pallet with Yafit while Ruth slept with Noa. Eddie slept in bed with his father and always had according to Al, and the poor younger Elric brother had sacrificed his comfy bed for a back-breaking chesterfield_

_What a mess._

_But her feelings of slight displacement were not what was keeping the mechanic awake at all hours. _

_She was worried about Ed._

_She was sure he had yet to return and wondered with panic where he could be. Was he that mad at her that he had run away?_

_But no, he had Eddie and Ed wouldn't turn away from his child, so he was merely avoiding her to the extreme and not caring if he made her worry._

_Asshole._

_A soft click alerted Winry to a presence entering the apartment. At first Winry's eyes darted to the front door but when no one entered her ears caught up with her mind and Winry realized that the soft footsteps of alternating flesh and metal were coming from behind her. Looking over her shoulder, Winry spotted a very disheveled and shirtless Edward Elric making his way towards the sink. He was scratching his belly with his flesh hand and looked as if he was barely awake. His hair was loose and fell well past his shoulders like drizzling honey and the muscles of his back and torso flexed with every movement, displaying the power of his small frame. He was wearing a pair of loose cotton trousers that seemed to slip down his hips inch after inch with each step he took. One more step and they would surely fall off._

_Winry held her breath._

_Ed hadn't noticed her it seemed, more concerned with filling a glass of water than paying attention to his environment. As Winry watched Ed drain two glasses of water, her ire began to rise. _

_The jerk was back long enough to have changed and fallen asleep, and he didn't think of informing her! Or anyone else!_

_Winry stood and waited for Ed to turn and face her so she could lecture him yet again on his selfish, prideful and egotistic bad habit of never letting anyone know where he was and that he was safe._

_But when he did turn and finally saw her, the words left Winry like a passing ocean breeze. He looked exhausted, large dark bags dragging down the normal confidence in his golden eyes. His whole face was haggard, stress lines marring his brow and he was frowning miserably, the wrinkles at the corner of his lips suggesting they were used to such a downcast position. And the way he was just staring at her, so lost and alone, begging silently for a human connection…Winry wanted to reach out and hold him._

_When Ed took three small unsure steps towards her, Winry held her hands over her heart, holding her breath when it seemed he was finally going to speak. But a flash of doubt struck him, his emotions carrying clearly in his eyes. He turned away from her and swiftly returned to his bedroom, closing the door behind him._

_Winry wasn't sure how long she stood by the window, staring listlessly at Ed's bedroom door. He had don't it again. The same thing he had been doing to her for years._

_He had shut the door._

_He closed her out._

_And Winry was at a complete loss…_

* * *

Eddie's little sniffles broke Winry from her sad thoughts and she immediately focused all of her attention on the tot. He wasn't hurt, merely sulking pitifully from his spot on the sitting room floor. His chin was burrowed against his chest, his bangs masking his eyes and his whole body shaking terribly as he pouted.

"Hey, little guy, what's the matter?" Winry asked.

Eddie simply shook his head furiously, refusing to speak, crossing his arms and giving a mighty harrumph. Winry was glad the child wasn't looking at her for she was certain he would not appreciate the large smile that had overtaken her features.

'_Just like Ed,_' Winry thought as she moved to sit cross-legged in front of Eddie, '_petulant and stubborn and a big suck when the world doesn't go his way._'

"Come on, Eddie, is staying behind with me so bad?"

No answer.

"Well, we could always sneak out if you really don't want to stay in here."

"I not allowed out." Eddie muttered bitterly, finally lifting his head to flash Winry an annoyed glower.

"Why aren't you allowed out?" Winry asked.

"Daddy says the monsters will get me and eat me if I go out. I always gotta stay."

"Oh dear…"

"S'not fair!" Eddie yelled, sticking out his bottom lip and banging his feet on the floor.

"It's not fair," Winry agreed strongly, "but getting mad won't make it better." As she spoke gently, Winry placed her hands over Eddie's feet and stopped him from banging them loudly and causing a racket.

"Then what will?" the boy demanded with such frustration that Winry almost believed she was talking to Ed. She smiled and leaned in close so that their foreheads were pressed together, forcing each of them to stare at the other cross-eyed.

"We're just going to have to have _so_ much more fun than they are that they'll wish they stayed behind with us."

"How?" Eddie demanded, not sounding as angry as before, but certainly speculative of the degree of fun that could be had indoors. Winry just smiled mischievously and tapped the boy's nose before rising to her feet and setting to work.

Eddie watched Winry closely, eyes narrowed and arms still crossed as he waited impatiently for her to deliver her promise of great fun. He tilted his head in curiosity when she began to move the couch, plush sitting chair, footrest and dinning chairs into an odd configuration that took up most of the sitting room and kitchen. His eyes lost their hard glower as he watched her remove the cushions from various pieces of furniture and create strange tunnels. His mouth fell open and his arms slumped to his sides and his eyes lit up when Winry took several blankets and threw them over the furniture to create the most impressive fort Eddie had ever seen.

"Alright, soldier!" Winry commanded. "Attention!"

Eddie was instantly on his feet, standing straight as a board and awaiting his orders.

"The enemy is attacking our east wall." Winry informed, pointing towards a variety of toys she had placed on the kitchen table and counter. Eddie giggled, delighted with the woman's ingenuity. "Here are your weapons." Winry handed Eddie a handful of his small building block. "We must protect the fort."

"Yes!" Eddie agreed before diving into the fort and crawling on his belly to the other side where he took position. "Fire!"

The various war games continued for hours, culminating with Winry being captured by the enemy, leaving Eddie to undertake the dangerous solo mission of rescuing his commanding officer. Grateful for her swift recovery, Winry rewarded Eddie by promoting him to General and making lunch.

They ate their sandwiches in the fort with Winry entertaining Eddie as she encouraged him to throw small cubes of cheese in the air so she could catch them in her mouth.

"How come you know so much fun things, Winnie?"

"Because I'm smart." Winry answered easily.

"Smarter 'an Daddy?" the three year old asked with awe.

"_Much_ smarter than your Daddy." Winry confirmed, wishing to see the look on Ed's face had he heard the comment. "I used to play all sorts of games with your Daddy when he was a little boy."

"Does that mean you lived in Daddy's old home?" Eddie asked. Figuring Ed might have tried to explain where he grew up to his son, Winry nodded. "It's far away, huh?"

"Very far away." Winry confirmed, throwing another piece of cheese into the air and catching it between her teeth.

"Is that why it took you so long to get here?"

"Yep. Your Daddy's and my old home is so far away that it took a very, very long time to get here from there."

"But how come you come here? How come you don't stay in your old home?"

Winry smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair.

"Can you keep a secret?" Winry asked, chuckling softly when Eddie's eys lit up like little golden suns. He smiled that same cheeky smile Ed had and nodded eagerly. "Cross your heart and hope to die?" Winry checked, crossing her own heart with her right hand and watching tenderly as Eddie mimicked her actions.

"I promise not to tell no one." Eddie declared, puffing out his chest and putting on a serious face.

"OK." Winry complied before lowering her voice. "I'm playing a game with your Daddy." she whispered.

"What kind?" Eddie asked excitedly.

"A very special, very long game that only me and your Daddy are allowed to play. We've been playing it since we were very little."

Eddie nodded, scooting closer to Winry as she divulged her secret.

"I'm chasing your Daddy." she whispered.

"Is Daddy running away from you?" Eddie asked. "But youse nice, Winnie. How come Daddy's running away?"

"That's part of the game." Winry reassured. "Your Daddy runs away and I chase him and then I get to catch him."

"And then what happens?"

"Then the game is over."

"Did you catch him yet?" Eddie asked.

"Not yet. Almost." Winry said, making up her mind that it was time to speak with Ed about things. "But that's why I left my old home to come here. I'm chasing your Daddy."

"Oh."

"Well, lunch is all done. Time for a nap, I think." Winry decided wiping the crumbs off of her blouse.

"Not tired." Eddie insisted as he yawned loudly, his eyes drooping and his head bobbing as he fought to stay awake.

"Come on. I'll nap with you." Winry offered which seemed to quell any complaints Eddie had. Crawling out of the fort, Winry followed Eddie into his father's bedroom. Though a knot of trepidation wound itself in her gut, Winry refused to be intimidated by an empty room. She stepped inside, not surprised to find that Ed's room was very practical, holding nothing more than a bed, desk, chair, bookshelf, chest and armoire. There was a lamp on the desk and a few volumes on rocket science and mechanical engineering scattered about the floor.

Hearing a grunt, Winry spotted Eddie struggling to pull himself up onto the bed. She easily scooped the boy up and placed him face down onto the comfortably firm mattress, giving his bottom a few affectionate pats before sliding in beside him.

"Dream well, Eddie." she said, closing her eyes and feigning sleep. She heard Eddie roll over onto his back and sigh.

"You too, Winnie." he managed to say around a rather large yawn. He was fast asleep in a matter of minutes and Winry cracked open an eye to observe the child at her side. He even slept like Ed, flat on his back with his shirt hiked up and a single wayward hand laying palm down on his belly. Taking a moment to gently brush her fingers through his hair and simply enjoy his presence, Winry felt her heart expand.

It was impossible not to instantly adore Eddie. Even if he wasn't so much like Ed, he was just too innocent and wonderful to ever consider a burden.

Winry knew what had to be done. It had been nearly two days since she and Edward spoke, enough time for Winry to collect herself and find her resolve. As much as she had been hurt and startled by Ed's decision to not tell her immediately about his son, Winry found herself understanding her friend's hesitation.

After all, she had her own secrets…her own past, and she would have to tell him if she ever expected to be close to him.

Equivalent exchange.

She would tell him of her life during their five year separation, and he would tell her about Eddie's mother.

It was a fair trade.

And after that…who knew. Winry was only certain that Ed and Eddie were a package and that wanting to be with Ed meant she would have to be willing to accept and nurture Eddie.

After their afternoon together, Winry had no doubts.

Edie was not a burden and Edward meant so much to her that his having a son was not an issue.

Now, if they could only find the opportunity to talk about it.

Pulling down Eddie's shirt so he wouldn't get a cold belly, Winry crept out of the bed and made her way to the sitting room to dismantle the fort and wait for the others to return.

* * *

It wasn't long before the others returned, the calamitous noise of their entrance waking Eddie who immediately bounded out of bed and clung to his Uncle Al and Auntie Noa, informing them that he was the keeper of a great secret. Eddie then proceeded to tug insistently on Noa's skirt throughout the rest of the afternoon, regaling his aunt with the adventures he and Winry had. Noa patiently listened to the three year old, not even bothering to scold him as he got in the way while she made dinner.

The other children tried to bribe Eddie into divulging his secret, but the boy would steadfastly refuse, smiling brightly at Winry as he declared again and again, '_Nope. It's mine and Winnie's secret'_.

Al was glad to see that his nephew was taken with Winry and Winry was very obviously taken with the child, often smiling quietly at him or watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Now, if only Ed would return and witness this.

Dinner was a pleasant affair and afterwards the older children demanded several games of charades before it was time to bathe and prepare for bed. Noa was washing Yafit and Ruth while Al and Paz were making up the beds and pallet with fresh linens. Winry was nestled on the couch with Eddie who was wearing one of his father's old shirts that had been modified to make a cozy sleeping garment for the boy. The tot was nestled comfortably on Winry's lap, looking rather eagerly at an automail manual that Winry was showing him.

"What's that?" Eddie asked, pointing to an arrangement of wires.

"Capillary cables." Winry answered.

"And what's that?" Eddie asked, pointing to another diagram.

"That's the inside of a joint motor."

"And what's that?"

Eddie's questions concerning the inner workings of automail had been constant and unending, but Winry seemed to be enjoying the child's interest in her life's work, so she answered him as best she could. Just as Winry was attempting to delicately explain how automail actually worked, Ed walked in, his steps shuffled and heavy.

"Daddy!" Eddie cried as he scrambled off of Winry's lap and ran to his father. Ed stumbled as his son rushed to hug his legs, a testament to how tired he was. Looking towards the couch, Ed saw Winry who was sitting calmly, watching as father and son reunited at the end of the day.

"Hi, buddy." Ed greeted, his voice raspy and low. "You've been good?"

"Yep."

"Good. Getting tired?"

"Nope! Winnie's showing me pictures." Eddie said happily, running towards Winry and taking hold of the manual so he could show it to his father. "See?"

Ed took the automail manual from his child and studied it for a few moments, the slightest hint of a wry grin touching his face. He glanced and Winry and looked as if he was about to say something, but that familiar shame clouded his eyes and he returned the paperback manual to Eddie before patting the boy on the head and retreating to his room.

Once again, his door was closed.

"Daddy's tired." Eddie said logically as he pulled himself up onto the couch and sat on Winry's lap. "Show me more."

Winry did, showing Eddie more pictures and explaining the inner workings of automail until the boy was sound asleep against her, his head cushioned on her breasts and his body warmed by her comforting arms. Taking a hold of Eddie, Winry walked towards Al and Noa's bedroom. They were just tucking the other children into bed when they spotted her.

"You tuckered him out." Al said.

"Yes. Al, can we put Eddie in your bed?"

"Huh? Why?" Al asked.

Winry sighed and spoke softly. "Ed and I need to talk and we can't do that with Eddie in the bed. He'll sleep with you tonight. And don't argue with me! I'll take the couch."

"Winry…"

"I said don't argue." Winry chided as she tried to pull back the covers on Al's bed, struggling as she didn't want her jostling to wake Eddie. Noa quickly came to Winry's aid and took Eddie from her so she could tuck him in properly.

"Is everything going to be OK?" Al asked as Winry turned to leave the room. His friend turned to look over her shoulder at him, her eyes shining with brave confidence and a sure smile on her face.

"We'll see." was all she whispered before leaving the bedroom. She stood alone in the sitting room for a moment, relishing in the silence and steeling her resolve. She couldn't retreat now. Licking her lips, Winry opened her toolbox which she had brought out when Eddie was asking about automail, and retrieved a dingy square tin and a pack of matches which she placed in the breast pocket of her blouse. Then, with a final gulp of air, Winry turned towards Ed's bedroom door.

It was shut.

She gripped the knob and twisted.

It wasn't locked.

Unsure of how she would begin and completely clueless as to what she would say, Winry held her breath and stepped into the dark room.

Perhaps she didn't know where this confrontation would take her, but Winry Rockbell was certain of one, inarguable truth.

Ed was never going to close her out again.

* * *

_Is it just me, are my chapters getting longer and longer?_

_Oh well, they're fun to write!_

_Anyway, I realize that much doesn't happen in this chapter except a lot of exposition, but this filler really is necessary. After all, Winry's pissed and it takes time when you're that angry to approach the situation in a rational manner. I also needed to show that Winry is willing to form a relationship with Eddie, that she is willing to take on the responsibility of the child along with having a romantic relationship with Ed. It's kinda heavy stuff, but I think its interesting waters to navigate. _

_Besides, you got to see a little Al/Noa tension, which was actually a lot of fun to write. Seeing Al get flustered and sexually frustrated makes me giggle._

_Oh! Before I forget, when I mention that Ed and Eddie sleep in the same bed, that harkens back to the '_Herr Elric' _chapter where it is revealed that Ed doesn't sleep alone. That's what Al meant when he was thinking about how Ed doesn't sleep by himself. It was meant to throw you off._

_Gotcha!_

_Anyway, the next chapter is exclusively EdxWin, so I'm sure that will make everyone happy. So, until the next chappie, I leave this one in your good hands. _

_Don't be a stranger, leave a review and let me know what you think!_

_No flames, please and thank you!_

_Regards, _

**Giant Nickel**


	12. Without You

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist and am making no financial profit from this story in any way…which kinda sucks._

**A/N:** _Well, this is the chapter that most of you have been waiting for, I'm sure. Yes, we will learn how cute little Eddie came to be and we'll learn what Winry was up to while in Amestris and, I promise, you'll get to see just how Ed and Winry's relationship is going to proceed. _

_So yeah, this is pretty much all dialogue. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Without You**

_Germany _

_26. Sept. 28_

***

Ed lay back in his bed, the hot relief of the liquor slinking down his throat making his muscles tense and relax in a strangely blissful way. He wasn't drunk, but he was getting nice and numb which is exactly how he wanted to be so that his rattled mind could finally rest. He was exhausted and he needed to sleep and as much as he was loathe to turn to alcohol as a tool for making his body and mind cooperate, he was at the end of his rope. All he could think of was Winry and how mad she was at him. So mad, that she hadn't even said a word to him in two days.

Not that he didn't believe he deserved it, but that didn't make his own aching heart feel any better.

Winry had every right to be furious with him. She should beat him over the head with that wrench of hers until he was out cold and turn him over to Kluge without a second glance. It was the least that he deserved.

He had hurt her, the look on her face when she had first seen Eddie replaying in his mind over and over. Raising his left hand, Ed pinched the bridge of his nose, seeking to erase that memory but at the same time holding on to it desperately, for he deserved to feel rotten and lowly. Ever since he was a child, Ed strove to stop others from hurting Winry, proclaiming himself her protector against all things that might bring her to tears.

He could never protect her against himself, though, and in the end, he was the one who always seemed to hurt her the most and the worst.

He was an ass.

As Ed continued to silently berate himself for every hurt he had ever caused Winry, he failed to notice that the very centre of his thoughts had crept into his room and was making her way towards him with a determined glimmer in her blue eyes. She noticed the nearly empty bottle of cognac on his desk and the empty glass beside it and trained her eyes on Ed. Sighing, Winry decided that she was not prepared to speak with Ed if he was drunk, so she would have to determine just how addled his mind was before leaping into this greatly needed conversation. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Winry sat down at the end of Ed's bed, her rear end and hip just brushing against his feet.

Startled by the shift in his mattress, Ed pulled his hand away from his eyes and spotted Winry sitting near him in the darkness. Instantly, Ed sat up straight, his back pressed flush against the headboard as his eyes focused on her in the dark.

He wanted to say something, but he didn't even know where to begin. And then he remembered the bottle of cognac on his desk and looked at it with panicked eyes, unsure of how Winry would react to his drinking.

Following his eyes, Winry knew Ed was likely worried about her feelings towards the liquor. Keeping her tone even and untainted with emotion, she spoke to him in the blackness.

"Are you drunk?"

Ed shook his head in the negative. He was relaxed and perhaps a little buzzed, but he certainly wasn't drunk.

"Good." Winry stated as she put her hands into her breast pocket and pulled out a dull looking tin and a pack of matches. Opening it, Winry took out a small thin cheroot and placed it between her lips with unabashed precision before striking a match and lighting the end. She took a slow drag off the cigar and Ed wrinkled his nose as the sweet scented tobacco permeated through his bedroom.

"When did this start?" Ed asked casually. He wasn't bothered by the fact that Winry smoked and had sort of expected it since Granny Pinako was practically a chimney, but it was still rather surreal to see the woman who had kissed his scratched knees when they were children do something that was so decidedly adult.

And naughty.

Not taking offense to Ed's inquiry, Winry simply took another drag off the cheroot and tilted her head towards the cognac. "When did that start?" she echoed.

"It's not a habit, or anything." Ed excused, suddenly feeling the need to fill his empty glass with the last of the booze. He stood up and did just that, his back to Winry as he answered, "Sometimes I just need it to relax. You know, take off the edge."

"Well, this," Winry indicated her cheroot, "isn't something I do everyday, either. Usually, I only smoke when I need to unwind from a major overload of stress. Does it bother you?"

"Does this?" Ed countered as he took a sip from his now full glass and returned to his spot at the head of the bed. Neither of them answered, each accepting that the other had their own bad habits as a means of coping with difficulties.

And the conversation they were about to have was going to be one of the most difficult things Ed and Winry had ever undertaken. For a few moments, they didn't say a word, simply basking in the fact that they were alone in the same room together without one or the other projecting hurtful feelings. They were also testing the waters, making sure that the other was willing to talk and listen. They simply had to work things out someway, and it seemed that the only means to an end would be to open up about everything.

No more secrets.

As much as Ed and Winry wished the past could stay in the past, if anything was to be resolved they would have to confess some rather difficult truths.

"Here." Winry offered, extending the cheroot out to Ed. Taking the cigar, Ed took a long drag, letting the flavor of the tobacco rest on his tongue and bring out the richness of the cognac on his palate. He offered Winry his glass of liquor and the cheroot, watched as she sipped and smoked the same way he had before. Then the cigar and the cognac were gone.

Tossing the stub of the cheroot out of Ed's bedroom window, Winry waited until Ed had placed the empty glass on his desk and returned to the bed before speaking.

"You have a really wonderful little boy, Ed. He's smart and curious and even well mannered."

"That's Al's parenting, not mine." Ed said as he rubbed the back of his neck in nervousness. When Winry shot him an incredulous glance Ed shrugged. "You know my manners were always shit. He definitely didn't get them from me."

"And his intelligence?" Winry asked with the tiniest of smiles.

"Well, that's all me." Ed joked lamely, though the pride he felt at knowing Winry believed he had been a good father was like a radiant light that shone from his soul. "Look, Winry, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be…"

"No, listen!" Ed said urgently as he leaned in Winry's direction, his eyes focused intently on her. "When I came back to this place five years ago, I really never believed that I was ever going to see you again. Destroying the transmutation circle and closing the Gate seemed to be the end of everything, even my hope."

"Ed, I understand…"

"It's not that I didn't think about you. I thought about you all the time! I even dreamed about you, but no matter how much I wanted you to be here, Win…no matter how much I cared about you...no matter how much I wanted…it wasn't going to happen. But I don't want you to think that I went out on some sort of binge and fucked around. It wasn't like that at all! It all just sort of happened…and I love Eddie…he's my little boy."

"Ed." Winry whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek and sooth the terrible worry lines that were marring the corners of his mouth.

The feel of his warm skin and stubble under her fingertips affected Winry more than she had realized it would. As she ran her thumb along his jaw, Winry felt her heart begin to pound wildly and her cheeks began to flush and her skin started to tingle.

She had missed touching him.

She had missed the way he felt and the way he looked and the way he smelled.

She had missed _him_.

Swallowing her concerns as her mind sped through the possible ways in which Ed might react to her own confessions, Winry returned her hand to her lap, not missing the disappointed look that crossed Ed's face. Pushing her shoulders back, Winry found the strength to bring up memories that she had buried long ago and had hoped she would never have to share.

"I should have waited for you." Ed sighed.

"No you shouldn't have." Winry countered smoothly. "If you had, you wouldn't have Eddie, and besides…I didn't wait for you."

Ed felt as if he had been struck by Winry's confession. A sudden churning of hot anger and crushing sorrow swelled within his very being and threatened to spill out in the form of either harsh words, wet tears or unhinged, rage-filled quaking.

But Ed took several moments to simply breathe and focus, allowing his mind to wander to other things, like how warm his belly felt from the cognac and how comforting the chilly fall breeze was as it caressed his hot brow from the open window. It took a few minutes, but the sudden blow of hurtful feelings eased enough that Ed's spontaneous reaction to rant and rave ebbed and he was willing to listen to Winry's explanation.

How could he have been angry with her in the first place?

He hadn't waited for her.

Why did some part of him expect that she would wait for him?

"Who was he?" Ed asked hoarsely.

"You just jumped right into that." Winry commented ruefully, her voice sharp and annoyed. "Move your feet."

Ed did as she told him and pulled his legs in towards his body so that Winry could shift back and sit fully on the bed, her back pressed up against the wall and her knees bent so that she could rest her chin on them. For a moment, Ed stared at Winry as if she were a painting, admiring the curves of her body and the way her profile was sharp and perfect. He followed the length of her hair which was unbound and flowing down her back like a heavy yellow curtain. With the light of the moon the only illumination that touched her, she looked like a lost nymph waiting for her glorious king to rescue her from a cold and hardened world and return her to a place of light and color and sunshine.

She was a dream, and the reality was she was sitting on his bed, he in nothing but a loose shirt and unbuttoned trousers and she in one of the loose fitting blouses and skirts he had bought her. Sure, he could let her speak and possibly tell him things he didn't want to know, or he could kiss her and make her forget all about the other men that had come into her life. He could coax her into forgetting every man but him, seduce her with his lips and tongue. He would run his hands, flesh and automail, all over her body, making her writhe and beg for him to give her fulfillment as he peeled the clothing from her and kissed every bare piece of flesh that was unveiled. He would treat her like a fine feast and sample and savor and devour her just as she believed he might when he looked at her with his smoldering golden eyes.

He would make love to her over and over again until she was too tired to think let alone speak.

All he had to do was kiss her…

It was likely the booze that left him feeling so bold, but Ed wasn't loaded enough to even begin thinking that trying to seduce Winry when they were on the precipice of a very important, and possibly forever-altering, conversation was a brilliant scheme.

He didn't want Eddie to be fatherless, after all.

"I met Preston during the war. He was a nurse…"

"A nurse?"

"A _male_ nurse, Ed, and don't make that face." Winry chided as she looked at her friend, giving his chest a strong smack for emphasis. Shrugging half-heartedly, Ed smirked and waited for Winry to continue. "It was kinda romantic, like those dime-novels the traveling salesmen would bring around back home every few months. It was the height of the war, I was a duty-bound, dedicated doctor and he was my protégée, aiding me in surgeries and basically feeding into my ego."

"So he was a kiss-ass." Ed snipped.

"He was _tall_." Winry remarked with a hard edge in her voice as she glowered at Ed. Even in the dark with only the subtle light of the moon Ed could perfectly see the inferno that was blazing in her eyes. He swallowed and pushed down the rush of desire that coursed through him as he stared her down.

Winry was always sexy when she was mad.

Too sexy for her own good, really.

Ignoring his body's reaction to the irate woman at the end of his bed, Ed shifted and tried to look properly chastised even though he was torn between wanting to kiss her and thrash her for the height comment.

"So, uh, what went on between you and this Preston?" Ed asked lowly, thinking that Preston was an even stupider name than Mustang. The former Fullmetal Alchemist wasn't at all interested in hearing about Winry's amorous adventures with her male nurse, but he knew that he had to hear what she was going to tell him.

It was never easy to learn about the past loves of the one you were in love with, and had the circumstances been different, Ed imagined that he would never have to hear about Preston the male nurse or anyone else in Winry's past. Just as likely, Winry probably would never feel that she had to tell him. But there was a wall between them and Winry was trying to tear it down, chipping at it with the only weapon she had.

Truth.

"We weren't together for very long. It didn't even last for as long as the war did and when we broke up he left back for Central and another nurse, a woman, took his place."

Ed nodded and the room fell into silence once again. It was several minutes before Ed realized that Winry was waiting for him to speak.

"Did…did he hurt you?" Ed asked, that one question the most important in his mind.

"A little, but nothing that left me emotionally scarred. I actually got over him without much effort…I didn't love him."

Winry didn't miss the flash of relief that crossed over Ed's face at her admission, and a small but insistent part of her wanted to hurt him.

After all, he had hurt her so much.

"I didn't love Preston, but I was in love with someone else."

"Someone else?" Ed echoed, his relief gone as quick as a flame caught in the wind. Winry felt cool satisfaction at the way Ed looked at her, his face going hard as if preparing himself for a crushing blow. Despite the righteousness that Winry felt, she also recognized the revolting sensation of disgust, realizing that even though she was entitled to want some small revenge on Ed, hurting him would always be the one thing she could never stomach.

Still, she pressed on.

"After the war, I stayed in Central for eight months. I watched Roy Mustang become Chancellor. I stood for Miss Riza at her wedding. I helped with the reconstruction. I was a witness representative of the people when Chancellor Mustang signed a new trade agreement with the country of Xing. I made a lot of automail and even served as a visiting lecturer in 'Applied Medicine and Engineering' at Central University for a semester. I also met Liam Post."

"Mmm…" Ed grunted to let her know that he was listening, despite how much he wanted her to stop.

"He was a soldier. I guess with all of the time I spent with the military I was bound to start dating one eventually. He was a new recruit, someone who had signed on after the civil war. He had never seen the frontlines, or the bodies, or the blood and he was just so…refreshing! He was optimistic, wide-eyed and innocent and just…I don't know! It was as if he glowed, he was so radiant. I was tired and run down and doing everything I could to forget that Grandma was dead and I had no one waiting for me back home…he was good to me. If not for him I might never have returned to Resembool, but Liam told me to go back to the place I was happiest. And I was always happy back at home…back in my little yellow house. So I went home and reopened Rockbell Automail. Liam would travel up about once every month and he wrote me letters and called all the time."

"Ah." Ed said, not missing the fact that Winry's soldier boyfriend had been attentive and sensitive towards her in all the ways he hadn't.

But that was good. Winry deserved someone who would treat her right.

"He asked me to marry him." Winry confessed as she lowered her chin into her chest. "And I said 'yes'."

This time, Ed didn't say a word or make a sound. In fact, it appeared that he had even stopped breathing.

"We had everything planned. It would be a military affair since he was a solider and I was a recipient of the Hyperion Cross. He would wear his uniform and I would wear my mother's wedding gown. We would marry in the fall at the same chapel my parents were wed in and all of our friends would come and make the whole affair absolutely perfect."

"So…" Ed droned, struggling to get the words out. "So, you got married, then."

"No."

"But you just said…"

"I left him." Winry sobbed, tears that Ed hadn't noticed before trekking down her cheeks as she wept for the memory of her fiancé. "He was so good to me, and I left him. And what's worse…I left him at the altar…I left him twenty minutes before the wedding."

And with that crushing confession, Winry burrowed her face into her hands and wept as loudly and wrenchingly as little Eddie did when one of the older children stole his toys. She was unforgiving, quaking and crying as if this terrible moment from her past had never been reconciled or acknowledged. When Ed reached for her, she brushed him off before he could even touch her, so the young man simply sat back and waited with a sickening sense of loss. He felt useless, impotent even, as he watched the most important woman in his life wail as if she were in pain.

And there was nothing he could do to help her.

"He…h-he-e…he was su-such a nice…a nice man." Winry managed to stutter. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps and Ed worried that she might hyperventilate. He scooted closer to her in case she reached for him, but she didn't. Instead, she continued to take shallow, wet breaths, but she didn't attempt to speak again until it seemed that her eyes could no longer produce tears and her body was exhausted from the terrible shaking that had taken control of her.

"He was a good man." Winry managed to gasp, taking her face away from her hands and using the ends of Ed's bed sheets to dry her cheeks and wipe at her nose.

Ed didn't mind.

"I just saw myself in my wedding dress…and I began to imagine the rest of my life with Liam…and that's when I realized that all of my plans for the future…every adventure and excursion and intrigue…he just…he wasn't there. I couldn't imagine him by my side and that's when I knew. If I was making plans for the future, and Liam wasn't a part of those plans…I couldn't do it. I wouldn't ruin his life by letting him marry me, not when I finally understood that there really was no place for him in my life…I really did love him…I loved him enough that I did what was best for both of us, and left."

"Winry, you're being too hard…"

"We wouldn't have been happy together…not in the long run, anyway. He had told me once that I would get a far away look on my face where I shut out the whole world and focused on something just out of my reach…like I was waiting for something I knew wasn't coming but was still hoping would peek over the horizon."

She turned to look at Ed then, her eyes positively devastating. They were sparkling like the darkest of sapphires, enticing him with their mysteries yet at the same time keeping him at bay for fear of shattering them with his rough and clumsy hands. She was looking at him with such vulnerable longing that he knew without asking that he was what she had been looking for to come over the Resembool horizon.

He was the reason she had walked out on her own wedding.

And even though he loved Winry and could barely stomach the fact that she had been with other men, Ed was sickened to learn that he had played a part in making Winry so very sad that she seemed to despise herself.

How could he ever make things up to her?

"I didn't make a scene." Winry continued. "I changed out of the gown and into my regular clothes. I left a note for Liam and informed an usher to deliver the letter to him before the ceremony began. And then, I just walked. I didn't care where I went or how long I was out. I think I must have walked the entire length of the county! Do you know where I ended up?" Winry asked.

Ed shook his head.

"Miss Riza found me at two o'clock in the morning at your old house. I…I don't really remember, I think I must have shut my mind off. She told me that I was just standing there, right in the middle of the property, not moving or speaking or anything. She brought me back home…I stayed in bed for days. I don't know if it was depression or exhaustion or a mental breakdown or what, but after a week I just got up, showered, dressed and went into my workshop to begin detailing a new piece of automail. Just like that, I fell back into my routine as if I was fifteen again. I never spoke to Liam, I never brought up the cancelled wedding or fed or dispelled the rumors. I never even cried about it. I just acted like the last year of my life had never happened. I still don't really understand it."

"I think I do." Ed offered tentatively. When Winry waited curiously for him to continue, Ed edged himself closer to her until they were sitting side by side, their hips and thighs not touching, but the heat from their bodies acting like its own intimate caress. Sighing heavily, Ed reached deep within the darkest, most secret parts of himself, scavenging for the feelings and memories that he had locked away years ago and had never shared with another person.

Not even Al.

"Eddie's mother's name is Manka Jidcova I met her four years ago, in a country called Russia. Al, Noa and I had been following the trail of the uranium bomb for months and our latest lead brought us up to Russia. We met with a contact the third night we were in this dingy little inn called the Belo Krolik. It was so fucking cold and I was getting fed up with following one dead lead after another. I wasn't in the best of moods…I wasn't looking for anyone, either. I…I just was never really interested, I guess.

"So we met our contact, Cane Fuery, and he brought us to a private room at the back of the inn's bar. We had our own serving woman who, it turned out, had been a friend of Fuery's for the last couple of years. Fuery introduced us and that's how I met Manka. She brought us food and drinks…she joked with us and kept others from eavesdropping on our conversation…

"She was nothing like you."

That comment startled Winry. Unable to cope with the rush of anger that took hold of her, she threw the only available projectile she had at Ed.

Her cigar tin hit him right in the face.

"Fuck, woman!" Ed groaned as he rubbed his bruised nose. Yet even as his own temper began to churn, he couldn't help grinning at her, knowing that if she was throwing things at him that their relationship was on the mend. When his nose only began to numbly throb rather than sharply ache, Ed shot Winry a thoughtful look before taking a thick lock of her hair and weaving it around his fingers, forcing her to stare directly at him.

"She had skin like Noa's, rich brown, as if she was always out in the sun.

Her hair was dark, curly and short. Her nose was longer than yours and she had freckles around her cheeks. She was soft spoken and gentle…and her eyes were like dark pieces of coal that held a homey fire."

"She sounds wonderful." Winry commented, unable to mask the bitterness in her voice. After all, she was listening to the man she loved spout the admirable aspects of a woman from his past. It was uncomfortable and hurtful to a point, and worst of all, Winry was beginning to feel jealous.

"I…I was trying to learn to live without you, Win…so I found someone who was your complete opposite. You know about this world, how there are copies of people from home. I could have gone looking for yours, Winry, but I didn't."

"Why not?" Winry pouted furiously.

Bringing her lock of hair up to his lips, Ed kissed her silky blond tresses before continuing.

"Because she would never _be_ you." Ed answered.

Winry blushed, taken aback by the brutally honest comment, accepting Ed's answer as both an ardent truth and a high compliment.

"I liked Manka. For the first time in my life I was consciously flirting with a girl. I enjoyed making her smile. We were held up in Russia for a few weeks, so I'd go for walks with her in the afternoon or sit with her on the porch of her parents' house at night. She would tell me about her dreams of writing music and playing the piano for European royalty, and I told her stories about the Fullmetal Alchemist and his quest for the Philosopher's Stone.

"She thought I was a novelist.

"She really did play the piano beautifully. Sometimes I'd listen to her play for hours. I was spending less and less time with Al and Noa and more and more time with her. I wasn't even all that upset when the rumors about the bomb turned out to be false. Instead, I extended our stay in Russia for another two months. The bomb had passed through the area, after all, so I was hoping to meet some important scientists and get another lead…but mostly, I just wanted to spend more time with Manka…it wasn't like me at all."

Ed took a moment to swallow, collecting his thoughts as he fought with the memories of the woman with the heart-shaped face and comforting smile. As he recounted the details, Ed was almost certain he could hear Manka playing her pianoforte again, the music lifting his tired soul up above every worry and fear, leaving the world empty of everything but the two of them.

"She was really petite even though she was nineteen. When she asked me to be with her, I was scared, but she was so beautiful and had made me feel like I hadn't in years…I _wanted_ to be with her. I was ready. Our first night…I wondered if I might break her. Everything about Manka was fragile. There was really no strength in her at all…that's why she died giving birth to Eddie."

"Oh, Ed!" Winry gasped, placing her hands over her mouth to stifle a sob that was threatening to spill forth. She could feel tears begin to prickle at the corners of her eyes, empathizing whole-heartedly with Ed's pain.

He had found love with someone else and in the end, he lost that new precious person.

How could Winry not sympathize? She knew that pain only too well.

"Eventually, we had to leave Russia. As much as I wanted to stay, we had to find that bomb. So I left Manka. I wrote to her every week, but after three months, her letters stopped coming and I figured…well, I supposed she found someone else. I was upset, but I always knew the relationship couldn't work out, not with me on the go all the time. So, I just accepted it.

"We were in a place called Neunkirchen when Manka suddenly appeared with Cane Fuery. Apparently, they had spent months trying to track me down and by the time they did find me, Manka was eight months pregnant.

"She told me that when she found out she was going to have a baby, her parents disowned her and threw her out. She went to go live with Fuery and was hoping that my next letter would let her know where I was, but it arrived after she had been kicked out and her father burned it. So, she and Fuery went to the last place they knew I had been which was here in Berlin, but I was already gone and they spent five months looking for me."

Winry nodded her understanding, her heart convulsively sympathizing with Manka Jidcova. It must have been horrible to be pregnant and alone, knowing you couldn't turn to your family and desperately looking for the father of your child and being unable to locate him.

It was probably terrifying.

"I'm not gonna lie…I wasn't sure if her baby was actually mine. I mean, I wasn't the first man Manka had been with, so part of me wondered if the baby was someone else's. Still, I couldn't be sure. After all, the timing was right, so…we came back here. And I married her."

"You did!" Winry gasped, completely shocked by her friend's confession. She had never pictured Ed as the type that would marry. Ever.

"You know that my mother and father weren't really married. It was a common-law, monogamous relationship, but there had never been a ceremony blessed by a minister or papers drawn up. That's why Al and I have Mom's last name.

"Do you remember the names we'd get called sometimes at school?"

Winry nodded. She could still recall some of their peers calling Ed and Al 'bastard brothers', taunting them for their perceived illegitimacy. To most of the residents of Resembool, it wasn't an issue whether or not Trisha Elric married her mysterious, brooding lover, but children can be very cruel, and unfortunately, Ed and Al's parentage was one wound which the bullies at their school liked to tear open again and again.

"I wasn't going to let Eddie carry the stigma of 'bastard'. It's just as bad to be an illegitimate child here as it is back home, so that meant I only had one option in order to protect my son. I married Manka. Eddie was born three weeks after the ceremony."

"But you said you weren't even sure that Manka's baby was yours. And you still married her?"

"I really didn't believe she would lie to me. And when Eddie was born…well, you've seen him. He might as well be my carbon copy. As soon as he was born he was bawling his head off. He had my eyes and even little tufts of blond hair on his head…there wasn't any doubt."

"And Manka? You said she died during the delivery."

"She was…just too small. Traveling all over the country trying to find me didn't help either…weakened her immune system, the doctor said. When she gave birth to Eddie, she…her body just wouldn't heal. She wouldn't stop bleeding…she got one look at our son before she died."

"Ed…are you OK?" Winry asked, realizing that reliving the events were proving difficult for her friend. As strange as it seemed to be offering comfort to Edward as he mourned the memory of his son's mother, Winry knew she could never be angry at Ed for loving another woman…especially a woman that gave him such a blessing as Eddie.

"Manka's the one who told me to name him Edward Junior. It was the last thing she said, so I honored her wishes."

"Makes sense, anyway. Like you said, he's practically you reborn." Winry offered. But the look in Ed's eyes was far off as he pushed past the fog that masked his past and revealed old hurts and shame.

"I took off."

"What?" Winry asked, barely hearing Ed's pain-filled confession.

"We buried Manka, brought Eddie home…and he wouldn't stop crying…he wasn't even three days old and I…I just left." Ed lowered his head, ashamed, looking as if he would willingly die on the spot if God would send lightning to strike him.

"Ed…" Winry began, raising a hand to comfort him, but he flinched from her touch and turned away.

"I left, just like my old man left me and Al. I wasn't any better."

"But Ed, I don't understand. You're here…why did you leave?" Winry asked, brining herself closer to Ed only to curse under her breath as he continued to retreat, so much so that he nearly fell off the bed.

"I didn't think I'd be a good father. I mean, I never had one, so what did I know about it? And he just cried and cried and cried…I wasn't thinking. I thought Manka would be around to help me, but I was all alone."

"Of course you weren't! You had Al and Noa." Winry insisted.

"I figured that out eventually." Ed rasped.

"How…how long were you gone?" Winry asked.

"A month. And the whole time I was gone all I thought of was him. I just wandered through the city, ate and slept when I needed to, but the one thing I always did was think of Eddie. I wondered if that was how my father felt when he wandered Amestris…did he feel as guilty or homesick as I did? Did he want to see me and Al again so badly that that desire was sometimes the only fuel left in his body? I didn't want to become him…I didn't want to be a picture his Uncle Al showed him on the holidays with false promises of my eventual return. I was scared shitless, but I came back. Having to face Eddie again, even though he doesn't remember and would never understand, was more terrifying to me than seeing Truth at the Gate."

"But you're here, Ed. You came back…you always come back."

"Do I? Five years ago…you know I wasn't coming back." Ed spat bitterly. "How can you keep having such faith in me?"

"I've always believed in you, Ed. Don't ask me why, it's just a part of my being. I believe in you."

"Even when I piss you off?" Ed smirked.

"That's when I need to believe in you the most, I think. You've never made anything easy on me, Edward. Not once."

"Yeah…sorry."

"Sure."

A silence filled the air between them, cloaking them in the knowledge of how the other had tried to survive the last five years without the reassurance of knowing that their best friend would be there to turn to. Neither had been wrong in the choices they had made, only neither had been happy with their choices either. No matter who they were with, what Ed and Winry had always secretly wanted was each other and now they had been given that second chance.

It was a chance that could not be wasted.

"Hey, Win?" Ed asked shyly. She nodded to show that he had her attention and that he could continue to ask his question. "Did you…did…" Ed gulped. "Winry, did you sleep with them?"

"Pardon?" Winry asked, a deadly edge tainting her voice.

"Winry…" Ed drawled uncomfortably. "Did you have sex with those guys? The nurse and the soldier?"

"That's none of your business, you pervert." Winry snorted brutally.

"The fuck it isn't!" Ed retorted strongly as he took Winry by the shoulders and turned her to look at him. He didn't want to force her to tell him, but he also wasn't prepared to let the matter remain untouched. "It's not fair, Win. I have a son, so I can't exactly hide the fact that I've had sex with another woman. You know about me, so I want to know about you."

"Why?" Winry asked in a small voice.

"Because we're laying down all the cards on the table, right? I mean, that's the point of this whole thing, isn't it? What the fuck are we having this conversation for, Winry? Why are we opening old hurts like this if it's not because there's something between us?"

"And is there?" Winry asked breathlessly, feeling for a moment that her world was spinning out of control and that if not for Ed's hold on her she might very well propel out of orbit.

Was this really happening?

"Winry Rockbell," Ed admonished, "Commander Dickhole sent some of his men after you because he had some poor sap look into my mind and learn about something that was precious to me. He didn't find Eddie and he didn't find Al, he found you and he did that because he wanted to get me where it would practically kill. And I'm telling you right now, Winry, if he had captured you, there wouldn't be any choice. I would have walked into the Fortress naked with the bomb strapped to my balls if Kluge demanded it." Ed ended his heated speech when he took a moment to raise both flesh and automail hands to Winry's face and softly stroke her cheeks. "I would do anything to protect you, Winry."

"Ed…"

"So don't ask me ever again if there's something between us. You know there is."

"OK." Winry agreed. She brought her own hands up to his face and twirled her fingers in his loose hair as it fell down about his ears and neck. "I slept with Preston. Just once. I…it was really uncomfortable and I didn't like it. I don't think I'm very good at sex and I was just really focused on my work and I didn't have time for making love even if I wanted to! When I caught Preston fooling around with the anesthesiologist I knew that, obviously, sex is all Preston really wanted from me and since I wasn't any good…I was upset about it, but I was also kind of relieved. As for Liam…we never slept together."

Ed narrowed his eyes slightly as he gave Winry an unimpressed look, but before he could protest the believability of her confession, Winry placed her palm over his mouth and explained.

"I told you Liam was a good man. Part of what made him so good was that he was old fashioned. He believed wholeheartedly in the sanctity of marriage and that a man and a woman should save themselves for their first night together as husband and wife. I thought it was rather sweet, and to be honest, it really took the pressure off of me."

"So, just one. Just once." Ed stated, his lips brushing against Winry's palm.

She shivered.

"Just one. Just once." she confirmed before removing her hand from his mouth. She returned to her place at the foot of Ed's bad, her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. Ed came to sit beside her, this time allowing their legs and hips to brush together. They didn't speak for long, languid minutes, absorbing everything that had been confessed and accepting that they both had changed and that those changes were mostly accredited to the lovers that had swept in and out of their lives.

Ed had married Manka and expected to start a future with her and their son, but he hadn't.

Winry had tried her luck at love with a peer and when that fell through she had found a good man who did everything right except inspire her heart.

They made quite the pair, sitting on the bed in the dark, two people who were otherwise so independent and strong, and yet when it came to their feelings about the other all confidence and bravery faltered. They had tried to live life without the other, only to discover that it was almost impossible. Now they were reunited, side by side, so vulnerable from the truths they had revealed that it was almost like being striped of everything.

Naked.

Together.

On Ed's bed.

"I think I better go!" Winry announced suddenly, flushed and nervous as she slid off the bed. "I'm tired."

She stretched a little and brushed away the wrinkles in her blouse before turning to leave. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Winry." Ed called, causing Winry to stop and look at him over her shoulder. "What…what's gonna happen now? I mean…well, what are we going to do?"

"I guess…we'll see in the morning." Winry muttered.

"Why are we doing this to ourselves, Winry?" Ed groaned, drained entirely and prepared to collapse, but stubborn against his body's wishes and continuing to pursue the answers that only Winry could provide.

She turned fully to look at him, her expression solemn and quiet, but her eyes were shining with possibilities and hope.

"We're doing this, Ed, because there can't be anymore secrets. If we want to see what'll happen between us…if we decide we're going to give this a shot, then no more secrets, Ed. There just can't be. I was never mad at you because you had a son…I was hurt that you wouldn't trust me."

"I trust you Winry! I just…fuck, I just didn't know how to tell you." Ed confessed pathetically, his fists gripped so tightly that Winry could hear the subtle crank of the gears in his automail knuckles locking. She marched up to him with a stern look and forced his fingers to relax, taking his hands in hers and warning him with her irritated stare that she didn't appreciate the abuse he forced on his automail so shortly after she had just repaired it.

Ed put a great deal of effort into relaxing, focusing instead on lightly holding her hands, allowing her presence to help ease his temper.

"It's over now, and we can't go back and do things the way we wished we did, so forget it. We have to deal with now."

Ed nodded his understanding. Winry gave his hands a squeeze and, offered him a small, nervous smile and turned to leave again.

"How should we start?" Ed whispered, his voice seeming to echo around the dark bedroom. Once again, Winry stopped, one hand resting lightly on the doorknob. She spoke lowly, her back facing him as she answered.

"You and I aren't sixteen anymore, Ed. We've changed. A lot. So…let's start there. Let's learn about each other…get to know the adults we've become."

Ed nodded before realizing she wasn't looking at him. He cleared his throat, his voice just as far away and low as hers.

"That sounds like it could work."

"Good." Winry sighed, peering over her shoulder at him, her smile seeming to erase all of the wrongs in the world. "Don't worry about Eddie. I put him to bed with Al."

"And where will you sleep?" Ed asked, spotting her cigar tin on the floor and handing it back to her.

"On the couch."

"What! That piece of shit?! Winry, no one could sleep on that beast." Ed argued vehemently.

"And so where am I supposed to sleep?" Winry bit back, grabbing her cigar tin roughly.

"In he…" Ed's voice trailed off and his face flushed scarlet when he realized what he very nearly said.

What he very nearly offered.

It seemed that Winry had caught on to Ed's slip as well, her face as red as a radish. She was grimacing at him and quickly moved to pull open the door.

"I said we should get to know each other Ed, but that wasn't an open invitation to get between my legs!"

"Winry!" Ed cried as he jumped after her, only to end up slamming into the door as she had chosen that exact moment to shut it behind her. Holding his bruised nose for the second time that night, Ed slumped to the floor and cursed under his breath, believing he had once again allowed his mouth to put up an impenetrable wall between himself and Winry.

He was surprised when his door opened a crack and Winry's still blushing face peeked in on him.

"Don't you dare have dirty dreams about me." she warned, her tone completely serious, but her eyes projecting that teasing manner which had been so present during their youth.

Ed almost laughed.

So, she wasn't mad at him, not really. She wouldn't tease him if she was. Irked by the rather flippant wave goodnight that she offered him before closing the door, Ed lay flat on his back on the floor, one hand still gently probing his aching nose, his body now lax and his mind free.

Something new was starting, a chance at the one thing that had eluded Ed since his mother passed away.

Happiness.

Closing his eyes, Ed was overwhelmed, all of the emotional baggage that had been weighing him down for the last two days lifting off of his body and finally allowing him to rest.

He fell asleep on the floor, one hand laying flat on his exposed belly, and his mouth falling open as he snored into the darkness of the room. Beyond the closed door, trying rather futilely to avoid the broken spring in the chesterfield, Winry listened to Ed's snores and smiled.

* * *

_Whew!_

_Wow, that was kinda draining. I sort of feel that all of the emotions that Ed and Winry were keeping pent up were also building in my heart and now that everything's out in the open, I think I want to eat some chocolate and take a nap._

_So, I'm not sure how most of you will react to some of the things I've revealed in this chapter, specifically the fact that Ed and Winry did not wait for the other and sought physical relationships with other partners. I hope no one is very upset, but I am trying really hard to go for a realistic relationship between Ed and Winry, and based on what both have been through and their frames of mind at the time, I don't doubt that the events I described in the above chapter are very likely. _

_That being said, you know Ed and Winry are so going to have hot, sweaty, loud, passionate, wham-bam-slam, up against the wall, tangling legs in silk sheets, completely consuming, see the stars and fireworks sex, right?  
Cuz they will._

_Eventually._

_Now that they've decided to re-learn who the other is, it's only a matter of time before their love and desire consume them._

_And trust me, when it finally erupts, you're gonna just love it!_

_Also, that bit about Hohenheim and Trisha not being formally married is pulled straight from the manga. I figured that borrowing this plot-line from the manga would really help to cement the decisions Ed made concerning Manka and Eddie. _

_Oh! And yes, I know I spelled Fuery's first name wrong, but that was intentional. _

_So, once again, I warmly extend my hand to all of my readers and I have reserved a great big hug to everyone who took the time to review. Please, please, please, keep on reviewing! They mean more to me, my inspiration and writing process than you will ever know. _

_No flames, please and thank you!_

**Giant Nickel**


	13. The Movie Maker

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, but I sure wish I did cuz then I'd get to see all of the new episodes before everyone else…oh well, one can dream._

**A/N:**_ So, are everyone's emotions a little more relaxed now that Ed and Winry have finally worked out some of their difference? Good. So the last few chapters were very character driven, dedicated to relationships and motives and family. Now, it's time to get the focus back onto the plot. Just because things are going alright between Ed and Winry doesn't mean that Kluge and the SS have been forgotten. I say, let's get this plot back on track._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**The Movie Maker**

_Germany_

_27. Sept. 28_

***

Winry bit back a groan, trying very hard to downplay the kink in her back, but as she sluggishly changed positions on her chair for the sixth time, Ed slammed his coffee mug on the table and threw her a stern look.

"You are not sleeping on that piece of crap tonight." he declared.

"It's not that bad." Winry lied, but even as she spoke her spine protested and she dug the heel of her palms into the flesh of her lower back as a means of alleviating the pain. She moaned when she hit the right spot, her head rolling forward so her chin nestled against her chest.

The children giggled at Winry's overzealous gestures and the annoyed glares that the blond woman was receiving from the man who was sitting across from her. Everyone was gathered around the table eating breakfast, thoroughly enjoying the porridge, toast, sausage, coffee and tea that Noa had prepared. Ruth and Paz were seated at opposite ends of the table, arguing over the better topping for porridge (cinnamon or warm peaches) and Yafit was regaling Al and Noa with a retelling of the strange dreams that had drifted in and out of her subconscious the previous night. Eddie was sitting beside his father happily munching on a piece of toast laden with honey.

"Here." Ed said as he placed a glass of white creamy liquid in front of his son. "Drink your milk."

Eddie shook his head, still chomping on his toast and turning away from the glass.

"Eddie, drink it." Ed commanded sternly.

"Yucky!" Eddie declared, pushing the glass as far away as possible. Winry stopped tending to her sore back to witness the familiar drama, her eyes wide and disbelieving as she watched Ed try to coerce his child into drinking milk.

Milk!

"It's not yucky, it's good for you. It'll help you grow big and strong." Ed promised.

"You never drink it." Eddie remarked smartly, doing his best to talk himself out of having to swallow the foul white beverage.

"I do too." Ed insisted.

"When?" Eddie demanded petulantly as he crossed his arms and gave his father a stubborn look.

"All the time." Ed lied, throwing his son the same narrowed defiant stare.

"Here." Eddie said, pushing the glass in his father's direction. Ed gave the glass of milk a deadly glower before frowning at Eddie.

"If I drink this, you promise to drink yours?" Ed checked.

"I promise." Eddie declared.

"And a man doesn't go back on his promises." Ed said.

"I know. I promise." Eddie chirped, the slight cockiness hidden in his grin reminding Winry of the times Ed had lied to avoid getting scolded by the schoolteacher. A silence had fallen over the room as Ed and Eddie stared the other down. Al gasped when Ed took a hold of the glass of milk, raised it to his lips and took one long gulp before slamming the glass onto the table. His cheeks were puffed out and his lips were pursed as he struggled to repress his gag reflex.

"Swallow, Daddy." Eddie instructed, still believing he had his father beat if the glint in his eyes was any indication. Ed glared daggers at his child, but as he swallowed his pride he also swallowed the milk, his whole body shivering so badly that even the hair in his ponytail seemed to stand on end. Eddie's mouth dropped open in sheer disbelief, all cheekiness fading from his expression as he realized that his father had indeed swallowed the mouthful of milk.

His eyes watering and his expression one of unpleasant exertion, Ed placed the half-empty glass in front of his son with a resounding thud.

"Drink it."

Winry couldn't help herself.

She had been softly chuckling at the situation when Eddie first refused to drink his milk. The argument Ed had made about milk making you big and strong had her biting the inside of her cheek to hold back her guffaws, but when Ed had actually swallowed the milk and looked like he had been poisoned for the effort, Winry simply couldn't hold back any longer.

Her laughter was loud and contagious, leaving the others at the table defenseless to her mirth. Everyone but Ed and Eddie were laughing uproariously, but none so much more than Winry. She was clutching at her sides, her face going purple as she struggled to catch her breath between giggles and tears were running freely down her face as she laughed and laughed, lifting her knees up to her chest as she curled in on herself, unable to stop.

"Win-Wi-Win…Winry!" Al managed to choke out past his own chuckles. "Are you…alright?!"

She managed to nod but was unable to stop her powerful laughter. It was several long minutes before Winry had calmed down enough to take long, deep breaths and wipe away the drying tears from her cheeks. She cracked open one shinning blue eye and saw Ed staring at her lethally, clearly not impressed that she had found amusement in his suffering.

"Wow, Ed." Winry sighed happily, flashing him a teasing grin. "I guess you really have _grown_ up!"

This time, just Alphonse burst out laughing, the only one besides Winry who really understood the context of the joke. Ed stared at his brother and best friend with undisguised irritation, mumbling something about how cruel they always were to him before insisting that his son finish the glass of milk without further argument. Winry continued to laugh, helplessly wiping away at the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, gasping for air as she weakly tried to control her laughter.

"I…I-I-I…I…" she took a deep breath, "I haven't laughed like this in years!" she confessed, her face a blotchy magenta as she was finally able to catch her breath, watching with sparkling eyes as Eddie hesitantly took the glass in both hands and brought it up to his lips.

Like his father, he took one large gulp of milk in an attempt to finish it off quickly. His face went green and he began to sweat, but he had done as he was told though he griped about it the rest of the morning, swearing that he could still taste the thick sweetness of the milk in his mouth.

"Everything tastes like milk now! Nothing tastes good no more!" he bawled when Noa picked him up and brought him into Ed's bedroom so she could dress him for the day.

"OK, even I didn't whine about milk that much." Ed grumbled as he and Winry washed the breakfast dishes.

"According to you." Winry shot back.

"I _wasn't_ that bad." Ed insisted, the hard edge in his voice emphasizing the finality of the discussion. Winry just smiled to herself and finished washing up.

"You're right. You whined more about your height than anything else."

She giggled at the sour frown Ed shot her and didn't even mind too terribly when he stomped away and left her to finish the dishes by herself.

Once all of the children were dressed and ready for the morning, everyone sat around the radio in the sitting room and listened to a rather amusing comedy sketch as well as the local news. Just after noon, Ed stood up from the couch, stretched and looked over at Winry.

"Alright, Winry, get your coat."

"Why?"

"We're going out." he said casually, getting his own coat from the rack by the door.

"Where?"

"Do you wanna go out or not?" the twenty-three year old asked irritably.

"Fine, fine! I'll be a minute." Winry snapped as she marched into Al and Noa's bedroom to collect her coat and strap on those terrible high heels.

"Where are you taking her, Brother?" Al asked.

"I have a meeting with Lang in an hour. I'm taking Winry with me. We need to settle things before we go to Paris."

"Do you think you'll be back for dinner?" Noa asked.

"Not sure, but put something aside for us anyway, would you Noa."

"Of course."

"Daddy!" Eddie hollered, gripping his father's legs in a tight bear hug. "Can I come, too?"

"Eddie." Ed sighed, getting down on his knees so he was roughly at eye-level with his boy. "You can't come with Daddy this time."

"But…but Winnie gets to go." Eddie pouted, tears already collecting in his large golden eyes. "I wanna come, too!"

"I know, buddy. I hate leaving you behind." Ed said softly, pulling Eddie up into his arms and hugging the boy tightly. "But I don't want the monsters to get you."

"You could beat them, Daddy. Kick their ass!"

"Eddie!" Noa gasped, shooting the child a surprised glare. Eddie couldn't see her, however, as his face was tucked securely against his father's neck. Ed was looking directly at the Roma woman, though, and his face was appropriately crimson as he grimaced, knowing that Eddie had learned the swear word from listening to him. He mouthed an apology to his sister-in-law as he gave Eddie a final squeeze before setting the three year old back on his feet and standing up.

"I promise to take you out really soon. We'll go on a trip." Ed said as he buttoned up his overcoat.

"Don't wanna wait." Eddie insisted with a dour frown.

"Be good for your auntie and uncle." Ed requested, ruffling Eddie's hair. The child was still frowning, but he nodded. "And you three…" Ed said, turning his attention to Ruth, Paz and Yafit who had been quietly watching the scene. "If you're good…I'll bring you back a treat. You too, Eddie."

"All set." Winry announced as she walked into the room. She quickly gave everyone a kiss on the cheek and patted Eddie on the head. "See you later!"

"Bye!" a chorus of voices called.

Ed and Winry waved as they left the apartment, making their way down the seven flights of stairs with unhurried steps.

"Ed?" Winry asked. The man beside her nodded his head. "Eddie was telling me the other day that he isn't allowed out. He said you told him the monsters would get him."

"It's the only way I could think of to explain things to him." Ed confessed.

"Do you mean Kluge? The SS?"

Ed nodded, his profile stiff and serious. "Not too many of the SS know what I look like, just Kluge and the soldiers directly under him. That doesn't mean that Kluge is just sitting on his ass in the Fortress, though. He's got people everywhere and I know my face is being circulated around some of the upper echelons. None of them know about Eddie, but if they ever got a look at him…I don't even like to think about it. Keeping him cooped up in the apartment is the only way I can think of to make sure he's safe…for the moment."

Winry nodded her understanding. After all, Ed was right. Anyone who knew what Ed looked like would only have to get a single view of Eddie's appearance before deducing that the three year old was Edward Elric's child. As much as Winry was sorry that Eddie had to be hidden away, she agreed with Ed.

At the moment, there was no other choice.

They reached the lobby of the apartment and Ed held open the door for Winry. They stepped out together into the grey, glooming day and Winry paused a moment before Ed ushered her in the right direction. Linking their arms together, Ed leaned in close so that Winry could perfectly hear his whispered words over the clattering automobiles and other bustling walkers.

"Kluge's got spies all over the place, so I risk my neck every time I go out into the city. That's why Al and I usually conduct our business at night if we can help it, but since we'll be leaving soon we need to make sure that the operation runs smoothly."

"Leaving? Where are you going?" Winry asked.

"We're all going to Paris." Ed answered, giving Winry's arm a firm squeeze, his own way of assuring her that he wasn't going to leave without her.

"Where's that?"

"To the west. It's the capital of the next country over. Did Al and Noa tell you about us smuggling the kids out of Germany?"

"They mentioned a little. Al said you had two families prepared to take them."

"Yeah. They're going to meet us in Paris in seven more days. Noa has to write up fake passports and adoption papers so that everything looks legal and we have to get past the boarders without being caught by the police. I've been busy making arrangements."

"Is that what we're doing now?" Winry wondered.

"Mm-hm." Ed replied. "Since I'm a wanted man, we need a rouse, something to cover up what we're actually doing."

"And that would be?"

"I'll tell ya when we get there."

They continued to walk for several long blocks, Ed leading Winry down the busy Berlin streets. Looking around at the buildings, Winry noticed that Berlin was very similar to Central. It had that same imposing coldness brought on by the large, overwhelming buildings that blocked out the sky, and yet, the colors and the curving architecture and the people gave the metropolis a rather intriguing charm, encouraging you to explore and get lost in the vivacious city.

Of course, not every surface was sparkling. Winry's keen blue eyes had noticed the shoeless children running in the streets, the never-ending bread-lines, the beggars and the prostitutes and the homeless. Al and Noa had explained to Winry the terrible economic situation that Germany was currently suffering. Food and shelter were very much a luxury in the difficult times that the German people were facing and it made Winry's heart lurch for those who were forced to do without, reminding her so much of the slums she, Ed and Al had visited as teenagers.

"That's the Charlottenburg Palace." Ed noted, distracting the young woman from her memories. Turning her head to where Ed was pointing, Winry's eyes became the size of saucers as she beheld the ornate building with its jutting wings, green dome, curved windows and elaborate gilded leaf designs. It was a fairy tale brought to life, shining through the dark grey that had blanketed the city.

For an unexplainable reason, it gave Winry hope.

They walked for another half an hour before reaching their destination.

"This is it?" Winry asked skeptically.

She was standing before a huge, worn down warehouse. The windows had been blacked out and the faded lettering that ran the length of the building revealed its one-time purpose as furniture factory.

"Let's go inside." Ed suggested with a smile, leading Winry by the arm to the large, slightly rotten wooden doors. Not bothering to knock, Ed simply waltzed into the building, Winry at his side.

The mechanic gasped.

While the exterior had suggested that the warehouse was nothing more than a dumpy old relic, the interior was bright and bustling with life. Several dozen people were scurrying about the cement floor, some carrying heavy lighting equipment, others with their arms piled high with papers and even a food trolley worker whose trays were filled with fresh muffins, fruits, cheese and a coffee percolator. Men and women alike were shouting across the vast space of the warehouse, their voices muffled by the constant sounds of sawing and hammering. Winry spotted several hands working together to set up a painted backdrop and attach lights to a suspended steel grid. When a woman holding a spear dressed in a strange flowing white gown with golden breast plates stepped in their path, Winry finally had to stop, yanking on Ed's arm so that he would not continue down the length of the warehouse without her.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"A movie studio." Ed answered, a rather pleased grin spreading across his face. He really did enjoy having the upper hand on Winry.

"They have movie studios like this in this world?" the mechanic asked dumbfoundedly, her head twisting back and forth as she tried to take in everything around her. "They don't have anything like this back home."

"You mean they haven't been able to get past those boring old news reels?" Ed asked.

"Those and some really shoddy cartoons. Resembool doesn't even have a movie theatre."

"That doesn't surprise me. Nothing ever gets to that town." Ed snorted.

"Edward Elric!"

Jumping at the exuberant shout, Ed turned around just in time to have his right hand shaken vigorously by an older gentleman with a thick, bold mustache and squinty eyes. He was smiling broadly, genuinely happy to see the young man.

"Glad you could make it, Ed."

"Knock it off, Lang!" Ed growled as he struggled to pull his hand out of the man's zealous grip.

"My apologizes, only I wasn't sure if you'd come today and I really need your help."

"You always need my help. What is it this time? Need another dragon hunter? Chauffeur?"

"Nothing that extreme." the man promised. "Oh, I'm sorry." The man had just noticed Winry standing by Ed's side. He took her hand and kissed it charmingly. "Forgive me for not properly introducing myself. I am Fritz Lang."

"Aren't you…"

"The noted film director, yes." Lang answered conversationally. "And you Miss? What's your name?"

"Winry Rockbell."

"She's an old friend." Ed supplied, his eyes locking with Lang's. "She's an old friend from _home_."

There was a moment of contemplative silence between the two men before a somber knowing look crossed over Fritz Lang's face. He smiled again and nodded, chuckling lowly.

"Interesting."

"Yeah. So, is everything ready?" Ed asked, his face pulled into a serious expression.

"Follow me." Lang instructed, turning his back on the pair and walking away.

Ed and Winry followed.

"Ed, isn't he…"

"King Bradley's double. He's a film director in this world. Pretty famous, actually. He…uh, he knows about Amestris."

"You told him?" Winry whispered.

"Not really. He sort of figured it out." And so, in as condense a fashion as he was able, Ed told Winry about how he had come to meet Fritz Lang and how the man had come to his own conclusions about where Edward Elric hailed from. Ed was thankful that Winry was of a scientific mindset, since explaining the theories of parallel dimensions could be especially arduous to someone who didn't have a solid knowledge of physics and a fairly expansive imagination. Other than a few questions, Winry was able to understand and accept Edward's explanation, amazed that humans beings of the world beyond the Gate had actually touched on a theory that was, for all intents and purposes, very true.

"When it was pretty clear he'd figured it out, I told him." Ed finished.

"But why?"

"Well, he seemed like a valuable ally. Besides, if he ever told anyone that he knew a man from an alternate dimension, who would believe him?"

"Um, Kluge, maybe?" Winry suggested.

"There is no way Lang would ever conspire with Kluge."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because Fritz Lang is number two on Kluge's shit list."

"And let me guess, you're number one?"

"How'd you figure that?" Ed joked, throwing Winry a sly smirk as they continued to follow the director out of the warehouse and to the back of the building where a series of smaller buildings and sheds were standing.

"It's in here." Lang said, taking Ed and Winry to a nearby shed that had a vertically sliding door. Hoisting it up and turning on the lights, Fritz ushered Ed and Winry inside. There were several large crates stacked neatly in the space and one very large wooden box marked '_fragile'_ that seemed to stand out among the others. Lang pointed at it. "This one."

Walking over to the large crate, Ed pulled himself up onto a box so that he could lift the lid and look inside. Curious, Winry stepped up on another box so she could peer into crate as well. Rather than heavy movie equipment, props, costumes, film or set pieces, Winry found herself staring into a very peculiarly furnished space. There were several plush cushions that lined the bottom, four ration boxes, four torches, water canteens and what looked to be a radio transmitter.

"It's perfect. Good job, Lang." Ed said.

"What's this for?" Winry asked.

"This," Ed reported proudly as he closed the lid on the crate, "is our rouse. See, Lang here is going to be filming a movie in Freiburg which is near the French boarder. We're going to put the kids in here with Noa, Al's going to drive the cargo truck and everyone will think the crate is just full of movie equipment. Once we get to Freiburg we'll sneak onto a train bound for Paris and we're in the clear. It's a good cover."

"Not bad." Winry complimented, honestly impressed with Ed and Lang's ingenuity.

Hearing Lang chuckle, Ed and Winry turned towards the older man.

"I'm glad you're satisfied with all of my hard work." Lang drawled. "But remember, I did say that I needed your help."

"Well, what is it?" Ed asked, his intuition setting off a warning alarm in his mind.

"Nothing major, just one small detail to tie up all the loose ends before we leave for Freiburg." Lang said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It won't take any time or effort, really."

"What _is_ it?" Ed asked again, now fully dreading what Lang was about to tell him.

The movie maker just smiled.

* * *

"I cannot believe you left this to the last minute!" Ed hollered over the distant rolling thunder as he, Winry and Lang exited the taxi and walked towards a lively looking restaurant. "Unfucking believable!"

"Relax, Edward, there's no need to get so worked up." Lang replied with an easy humor.

"Not get worked up? We are due to leave Berlin in a week. Your filming location is our cover. In fact, the whole _plan_ depends on your movie and now you're telling me you don't even have the fucking permits or finances to fund the project?! What the fuck, Lang!"

"Ed!" Winry hissed, yanking on the young man's ear. "Stop it. Everyone's looking."

"Fucking Lang." Ed murmured, rubbing at his sore ear as he shuffled behind Winry and the movie director. They entered the packed restaurant and Lang took a moment to peruse the room before he spotted the man they were due to meet.

"There he is." Lang said, pointing towards a wafting cloud of blue smoke that was hovering near a back corner. Squeezing their way through the crowd, Lang, Winry and Ed managed to slither their way to the table and towards the producer who would, hopefully, green light Lang's film project with little hassle. "Wonderful to see you again, my good man!" Lang cheered when he reached the table, one hand already stretched out to eagerly shake the producer's.

"About damn time, Lang. I've been here nearly twenty minutes." a rough voice said. Fanning away the cigarette smoke, Ed and Winry were finally able to get a good look at the man who held the success of their plot in his hands.

He was of an average build, with broad shoulders, square jaw, keen narrowed eyes and dirty blond hair that seemed to shoot in every direction from atop his head. To complete the appearance, a single cigarette already half smoked hung from the man's lip.

"John Mayhem, allow me to introduce you to my assistants." Lang offered congenially. "This is my apprentice director, Rupert Helmer." Lang said, clapping Ed on the shoulder in a fatherly manner, "and this is Inga Utherlintz, my new secretary."

The bored and irritated look that had been plastered on Mayhem's face melted away the moment he set eyes on Winry.

"A pleasure to meet you." Mayhem said smoothly, his greeting directed solely at Winry as he took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering a little longer than Ed was comfortable with. "Well, Lang, you may make a late entrance but you're certainly smart enough to know to bring along a pretty compensation for my time. Miss Utherlintz – it is 'Miss' isn't it?"

Winry nodded and Jean smiled like a cat that had caught the mouse.

"Well then, Miss Utherlintz, allow me." And with a practiced motion that was as graceful as it was charismatic, John Mayhem pulled out Winry's chair and bade her to sit before taking his own seat next to her so closely that their shoulders touched. He put out the cigarette that he had been smoking and brushed a hand through his hair, his full attention locked on Winry. "So…do you live around here?"

"Ahem!" Ed coughed as he and Lang took their seats. Winry shot Ed a warning glance that promised he would be in a world of pain if he didn't bring down his temper and allow Lang and Mayhem to work out their production plans.

"Forgive my protégé." Lang excused, still very much in a good humor. "He is very anxious to get these little details out of the way so that we may begin our project."

"Geez, kid, anyone tell you not to take life so seriously?" Mayhem remarked casually as he shifted in his chair so that he was now facing Lang and Ed.

"Who are you calling a kid, you old fart?!" Ed growled back, a vile grimace on is face.

"Old fart?! You ungrateful brat, didn't anyone ever teach you to respect your betters?!"

"Betters? What betters? I don't see any here!" Ed ranted.

"Oh dear…" Lang sighed, shooting Winry a rather embarrassed glace from across the table. Gritting her teeth and refraining from smashing Ed over the head with the nearest available object, Winry pulled back her shoulders and stared at both men with half-lidded, doe-like eyes.

"Oh gentlemen, must we argue over such silly things?" she asked in a slightly airy manner. Both men immediately stopped their squabbling to stare at the woman seated with them. Ed had a narrowed, slightly befuddled expression on his face as he took in Winry's batting eyes and pursed lips. John Mayhem, however, grinned like a wolf and slid his chair even closer to Winry's, flashing her a flirtatious smirk.

"You're right, of course, Miss Utherlintz," he agreed as he shifted to light another cigarette, "I don't believe in fighting useless battles, either. You and I seem to have a lot in common, what do you say we further discuss our similarities at another date and time. What do you think?"

Before Ed could leap across the table and strangle the life out of Mayhem for having the audacity of asking Winry out on a date, Winry blushed prettily and leaned in close to the man. Although she was whispering, her sweet breath caressing Mayhem's ear and making the man shiver, her words were loud enough that her companions could hear her response.

"I think we should conclude our business here before making any future plans, don't you agree, Mr. Mayhem? You know what they say, never mix business with pleasure."

The cigarette that Mayhem had been coolly smoking slipped from his lips and burned the table cloth before he broke out of his stupor and picked it up. His face was red, his eyes wide with shock that a beautiful woman had made such a bold statement.

To him!

This must be his lucky day!

But, of course, if he was to pursue the possibilities with Miss Inga Utherlintz, he would have to comply with her wishes and get down to his business with Lang.

"Alright, gentlemen, you heard the lady. Let's get to the point." And as if he was two different people, John Mayhem transformed from the foolish, skirt-chasing flirt into a very stern and single-minded businessman. "You were late getting here, Lang, so you've got fifteen minutes to convince me why I should give my money to an unworthy half-Jew instead of an honest, hard-working, pure German patriot."

* * *

"How about stroganoff?" Noa suggested.

"Don't like it."

Shooting Ruth a sever glance out of the corner of her eye, Noa bit her tongue, refusing to let the ten year old's sour attitude upset her.

"I can make a casserole."

"Nope."

"Baked beans?"

"No."

"Fish? I could run down to the market and…"

"I hate fish."

"You didn't when we had it a few weeks ago." Noa said, her tone even but sharp.

"I lied. I didn't like it."

"That's enough." Noa stated, turning to regard the petulant girl who was sitting grumpily at the kitchen table. Ruth was frowning deeply, drumming her fingers on the worn wooden surface of the table. Seeing the child in such miserable spirits made Noa's heart ache, but she had to be firm. Placing her hands on her hips, Noa took a few steps towards Ruth so that the girl was forced to look up at her. "Ruth, you have been in a foul mood all day. Now, do you want to tell me the problem or are you going to sulk and act like an infant and be of no help whatsoever?"

"I don't want to leave!" Ruth roared, banging her fists on the table and standing defiantly against Noa.

"Ruth…"

"There's only one week left. In seven days you're going to send me away and I don't want to go!"

"I know you don't, Ruth." Noa said sympathetically, stepping forward with open arms to pull the girl into an embrace.

Like a frightened animal, Ruth retreated from Noa's touch. The movement made Noa gasp and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes from falling. Ruth hadn't shied away from Noa since that first day when the Roma woman and the Elric brothers discovered her in the streets.

It hurt.

"Don't make me go!" Ruth pleaded.

"You must, Ruth." Noa insisted. "It's not safe here."

"You can protect me!"

"We can't risk you."

"I hate you!" Ruth cried, fat tears trekking down her cheeks as she looked up at Noa with the most defeated and angry look contorting her features. "You're just like my mother. You'll throw me away, just like she did!"

"I would never…"

"I hate her! And I hate you, Miss Noa!"

Gasping, Noa held her hands over her heart, the words seemingly piercing her flesh as if they had been bullets. Unable to speak or stop her own tears, Noa retreated from Ruth, moving quickly into her bedroom and shutting the door softly behind her.

Ruth flinched when she heard the door close.

"Apologize."

Looking behind her, Ruth found herself caught in the ferocious glare of Alphonse Elric. Her shoulders immediately sagged and she lost most of the tension in her body, but she didn't cower as Alphonse got up from the plush chair he had been lounging in and made his way to her.

She had forgotten that Paz and Alphonse were in the sitting room and had obviously witnessed her outrageous tantrum. It made her wonder if she might have accidentally woken Eddie and Yafit, who were napping in Edward's bedroom.

"Go and apologize to Noa." Alphonse said again when he was standing directly before Ruth. She pursed her lips and lowered her dark hazel gaze, staring stubbornly at her bare feet. "I am very disappointed in you, Ruth. You know that Noa loves you like she would love a daughter."

"But she's sending me away." Ruth muttered wetly.

Seeing that the child was crying, Al placed a strong, steady hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"You're too young to understand, but one day, you'll realize that sometimes, when you love someone with your whole heart, you'll do anything you can to keep them protected. Even if it hurts…even if it might make them hate you…like sending them away. Sometimes, it's the only option."

"It shouldn't have to be." Ruth mumbled, her voice soft and broken, just like an innocent child who had yet to discover the innumerable grey areas that made up life.

"Maybe you're right, but that's the way it is. Noa loves you, Ruth. She loves you so much that she's going to give you the chance to live a full and happy life at the cost of her own feelings. She would rather you stay here with us, but she knows that it's too dangerous. She's hurting too, Ruth, and maybe you need to start thinking about how others feel rather than focus on your own needs."

And with those final words that worked as effectively as a slap in the face, Al walked away from Ruth and entered the bedroom where Noa had taken sanctuary, leaving Ruth alone with her guilt and Paz.

Alphonse walked into the dark bedroom and softly made his way towards the bed where Noa was laying, her shoulders quaking as she struggled to suppress her sorrow. Noa was never one who gave in to great displays of sobs when she cried. Instead, she kept fairly silent as the tears trailed down her face in an unstoppable cascade. Al sat beside her on the bed, placing a tender hand on her shoulder, hoping she would accept his touch and turn to face him.

She did.

Pushing herself up so that she was sitting alongside him, Noa leaned heavily into Al's body, accepting his warmth and kindness as he allowed her to silently cry, waiting ever-patiently for her to calm herself and speak.

"She said she hates me." Noa whispered fearfully.

"You know she doesn't." Al answered reasonably, placing his arm around Noa and encouraging her to lay her head against his chest. Noa did just that, her ear hovering over Al's steadily beating heart, the constant thrump lulling her into an exhausted, sated peace.

"I wish we could keep her. I wish we could keep all of them. And with Winry here and her and Eddie getting along so well…he won't need his Auntie Noa like he once did."

"He'll always need you. You're the only one who can look under his bed properly for monsters." Al teased, kissing the top of Noa's head and inhaling the fresh soapy smell that permeated from her dark tresses.

He shivered.

"It won't be long before Winry is the one looking for monsters." Noa said solemnly. "And I don't have to be a psychic to know that."

Al started to run his fingers through Noa's hair, gently kneading her skull and soothing her frayed emotions. She sighed and cuddled against her husband

"I want children, someday…children that are mine…children that I'll never have to send away." Noa confessed, nuzzling her nose into Al's chest, the fresh washed smell of his shirt invading her senses as she quickly began to fall asleep.

With her mind so thoroughly worn out, Noa found she had no control over her speech, making one more deeply guarded confession into the quiet room.

"I hope they look like you."

By the time Al had managed to get over the shock of Noa's words, he looked down to discover his wife was asleep, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, his around her shoulders, and their legs intertwined. For a few rather torturous moments, Al fought to control his breathing and his heart beat, seeking for a plane of rationale as he digested Noa's words and understood them for what they were.

She wanted children.

She wanted _his_ children.

Which, logically, meant that she wanted _him_.

Placing his head on top of Noa's, Al squeezed her close, ecstatic to finally learn that his wife at least cared for him enough to wish to have his children. Perhaps…perhaps she might even love him. After all, lust led to love all the time, and maybe that was the path that Al's marriage was trekking.

Slightly confused, Al decided that a late afternoon nap wasn't such a bad idea. Shuffling down the bed so that he and Noa were laying together, he looked out the window at the dark grey sky. The hypnotic patter of rain on glass was starting to cause the seventeen year old to drift off, and he hoped sluggishly before he finally fell asleep that Ed and Winry didn't get caught in the downpour.

* * *

"Well, I think we've come to a settlement." Mayhem declared as he stretched his arm out across the table to shake Lang's hand. "You're making a movie."

"About damn time!" Ed muttered darkly, peeved that his comment went ignored by the others at the table. What was supposed to be a fifteen minute begging session on Lang's part had somehow turned into the longest five hours of Ed's life as both director and producer went over the logistics of the filming contract, negotiating and bargaining over the most inane issues that Ed thought he might pull his hair out.

In the end, however, a decrease in Lang's salary and the decision to cut three days from the location shots is what finally ended the discussions.

"Glad we could come to an agreement, Mr. Mayhem." Lang said pleasantly as he signed a contract and returned it to the producer.

"I'll have the permits written up in a few days. Perhaps Miss Utherlintz could come by my office and pick them up?" Mayhem suggested, leering appreciatively at the woman beside him.

"Miss Utherlintz will be otherwise engaged." Ed barked.

"I'm afraid my apprentice is correct." Lang said with a smile before a brawl could break out between the two men. "With our filming date so close, I'll be needing Miss Utherlintz at my beck-and-call."

"Well, then maybe after you return?" Mayhem asked, his tone a little desperate. "In the meantime, I've got to get going."

"Take care, Mr. Mayhem." Winry said charmingly, waving goodbye as the man stood from the table and began to walk away.

"You as well, Miss Utherlintz." he replied suavely. And with a teasing wink, John Mayhem left his guests, an unbalanced and very noticeable limp in his gait. The man stood tall and proud, his steps stiff and seemingly painful, but he continued to walk out of the restaurant, favoring his left leg with a practiced swagger, as if he had gotten use to the handicap years earlier.

"What a dick." Ed grumbled as he harshly rubbed the heel of his left palm into the muscles around his arm port. "And he left us with the bill." he spat, angry that they had been held up for so long that they had been forced to dine with the irritating man.

"I'll take care of everything, Edward." Lang promised. "But I must say, I am very impressed with your young friend, Miss Rockbell. I am grateful for her services."

"What did Winry do?" Ed asked which earned him a swift kick in his right shin from the woman in question.

Lang began to chuckle and patted Ed on the back. "I was actually a little worried about this meeting since John Mayhem doesn't disguise his prejudices against Jews. I was hoping _you_ would be able to convince him to back the film with your skill for jargon and your rather persistent personality, but with your Miss Rockbell here! Well, she was really all the incentive that Mr. Mayhem needed, wasn't she?"

"Cut the crap!" Ed roared, furious that what Lang was saying was true. In fact, Mayhem had been pretty set on not allowing the Jewish man to direct the movie, but when Winry's hand had slipped under the table for a few moments, most likely to squeeze the producer's knee, Mayhem was suddenly much more amicable.

"Well, I'll take care of this bill. You two can run along."

And with a polite nod towards Ed and Winry, Fritz Lang left them.

"I guess we should go, too." Winry sighed as she grabbed her coat and began to walk towards the exit of the restaurant. Ed stomped behind her, his ire diffusing from his body like steam.

He just wanted to go home.

The negotiations had been long, Mayhem's flirting had been annoying, and to top it all off, the damp air was making Ed's right shoulder burn like a terrible rash. When he exited the restaurant behind Winry, the sight of heavy rain and the rolling rumble of thunder made the young man's spirits sink.

"Fuck…" he grumbled. The rain always made his automail joints ache and at the moment it was his right shoulder that was giving him the most trouble. He was exhausted, and all he really wanted to do was see his son and go to sleep. But then, Ed spotted Winry and his whole world seemed to stop.

She was standing on the sidewalk, her face turned up to the sky, allowing the fat drops of water trail down her features. Her blond hair, pulled up in a bun, was getting wet, several strands falling out of their binding. She was smiling peacefully, enjoying the feel of the rain on her skin, eyes closed and her long black eyelashes catching the droplets, making them sparkle like fine crystal.

Ed's mouth went dry as he looked at Winry, relishing in simply being able to watch her after having been deprived of the opportunity for so long. Even as a teenager, when Winry had traveled with himself and Al for a time, Ed would often take a few moments to just watch her, torn between wanting to keep her and knowing that he had to send her away. He had to keep her safe, no matter the cost…even if the price was her regard for him. However, it seemed that after the previous night's long and honestly painful discussion, Ed and Winry were suddenly back into the mould that had shaped their friendship from its very commencement. It was familiar and comfortable and…not what Ed wanted anymore.

Winry had said it best last night, they weren't sixteen years old any longer. Daydreams of holding hands, secret midnight meetings and plans of perfect pure romance were no longer a part of who they were. They had grown and loved and lost, discovering the beautiful and ugly, emotional and physical aspects of what it meant to be with someone. While Ed could admit to himself that there was once a time when the thought of simply kissing Winry was enough to get his blood hot and rushing, he couldn't say the same for the present. He still thought of their heated kiss in the bunker, even considered the other ways in which he would kiss her in the future, but mostly, he found himself wanting to just be close to her, to have them both stripped of everything but their flesh and their passion.

He wanted to hold her.

Unsure if what he was doing would earn him a smack with a wrench or a returned embrace, Ed stepped up behind Winry, his arms open to pull her into him. He wasn't sure how Winry was reacting, unable to see her face as he buried his nose into her hair, smelling the rain on her. He felt her sigh and sag into him, her heat warming him and her acceptance soothing his aches.

"You have no reason to be jealous, you know." Winry commented, turning her head to look at him.

"I wasn't jealous."

"You were, too." Winry decided. "Don't argue with me."

"Brat…" Ed whispered pulling him even closer to his body, wishing he had the power to always keep her so near. "Come on, let's get out of the rain. You'll catch a cold. Besides, we still have to get treats for the kids."

Winry nodded and Ed released her, leading her down the street by the hand, never letting go until they crossed the threshold of the apartment.

* * *

"I've an incoming call from an outside line. It's Mayhem."

"Patch it through."

Riza Eaglewing nodded and did as Kluge bade her with efficiency and speed, transferring the call to her commander, still holding her receiver to her ear. Kluge waited for her assurance that the line was secure before picking up his telephone.

"I told you never to call me from a public line." Kluge said haughtily.

"And just what sort of line am I supposed to use then, _sir_? Since my honorable discharge the _only_ lines available to me are public ones."

"What do you want?" Kluge groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slumped heavily against his desk, ignoring the stern glare his bodyguard was shooting him from across the office.

"I thought you'd like to know that Fritz Lang is on the move. I just had him sign a contract to film on location in Freiburg. He and his crew will be leaving in a week."

"Freiburg? Interesting." Kluge drawled mysteriously, throwing Eaglewing a knowing glance.

Fritz Lang had been a person of interest to Commander Kluge for one solitary reason: he was a known accomplice of Edward Elric's. For nearly two years Kluge had attempted to have the Jewish director detained on counts of treason so that he might interrogate him, but the infuriating man had paid off every official in Germany that would have the authority to pass the warrants. Unwilling to accept that Lang would be permitted to walk free and continue to scheme with Elric, Kluge had assigned one of his own to keep an eye on the renown film director and all of his activities.

It was lucky that Johan Mayhem's family worked in the film industry.

"I thought you might like that." Mayhem gloated.

"How's your leg?" Kluge inquired, an unexpected tenderness in his voice.

"You ask me that every time I call, Roy. I'm not a fucking cripple, I just have a bullet lodged in my knee. It's not anything to be worried about!" Mayhem growled.

"Fine." Kluge conceded, knowing that if Mayhem was unguarded enough to call him by his Christian name then the subject of his bad leg was one to steer away from. "If you have nothing else to report then…"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you if dating Lang's new secretary would be considered a conflict of interest."

Kluge rolled his eyes and surpressed a frustrated bark.

In over a decade, John Mayhem hadn't changed. While the man was an especially skilled foot soldier and as loyal as Rin Tin Tin he always had the irksome habit of thinking with his cock first, stomach second and brain third.

"…breasts that are unbelievable, and this little waist, and her rear end is just so delicious I could take a bite out of it!" Mayhem raved, unaware that his colleague was getting impatient with his list of Miss Utherlintz's assets. "During the negotiations she squeezed my knee under the table and ran her fingers up my thigh. That's a good thing, right?"

"Mayhem…"

"If that half-pint of an excuse for an apprentice hadn't been there growling the whole time and giving Miss Utherlintz dirty looks I bet she would have accepted my invitation out for sure!"

"An apprentice?" Kluge asked, his interest suddenly intrigued.

"Some snot-nosed twerp with an attitude too big for his stature." Mayhem grumbled. "His hair was too long, his clothes were moth-eaten and he had the most annoying hard golden eyes I've ever seen."

Kluge suddenly sat up straight, his body tense and his voice turning as cold as a northern wind.

"Golden eyes?"

"Yeah, and this stupid little…"

"Describe the secretary, Mayhem. Just her face and _no_ fawning!"

"Uh, sure." Mayhem replied, taken aback by the fierceness in his comrade's voice. "She has a sort of heart-shaped face with a more rounded chin than pointy, small nose, full lips…um…oh! She has pierced ears. Actually, she has several piercings…that's kinda kinky."

"Her eyes! Describe her eyes!" Kluge roared into the receiver, causing Mayhem to jump back and shudder. He couldn't recall Kluge ever being so riled up since after the Great War.

"Blue!" Mayhem cried. "They're big blue eyes, almost too big for her face. They shine like newly mined sapphires."

And that's when Kluge knew.

After his unsettling encounter with Hughes' nephew, Klaus, the single detail that had stood out in the SS commander's mind was the boy's eyes. They were just too big, too expressive…too pretty to be a man's eyes. He had been certain that 'Klaus' was actually the Winry woman that he had sacrificed six good men to capture. He had also been fairly certain that Maes Hughes was a member of Elric's resistance and that the police captain had harbored the girl before shepherding her to Elric. While the reports had confirmed that Hughes and his family were indeed in Hanover, Kluge held on to his suspicions. It wouldn't have been too difficult to get the girl to Elric and still maintain his story of an ill mother-in-law.

"Are you still there?" Mayhem asked.

"Goodnight, John."

And with that, Kluge hung up on his long-time companion, his mind wandering rapidly.

"You shouldn't be so harsh with him." Eaglewing chastised lightly as she hung up her telephone receiver and walked towards Kluge's desk. "After all, the man did take a bullet for you."

"I haven't forgotten." Kluge uttered. "If I had, I wouldn't have him working for me as a spy."

Riza nodded.

"If that secretary is Winry, then the apprentice with the golden eyes is likely Elric. They must be together."

"Indeed. It will make taking her and using her as our hostage a little more difficult than I had anticipated." Kluge admitted, hating when things became needlessly complicated, and Edward Elric was certainly the most bothersome of needless complications. However, the knowledge that Winry from Resembool had ended up in the care of Elric and his band of rebels was of little consequence to the SS commander. He would get her, eventually, and he would use her to get what he wanted from Elric.

At least he knew that they were currently in the vicinity of Berlin.

"Did you hear that Lang is heading for Freiburg in one week?" Kluge asked.

"Do you think it is a coincidence?" Riza wondered.

"There are no such things as coincidences." Kluge replied. "See what you can do about getting our supplies shipped from another station. If we can't accomplish it, get them on a different train out of Freiburg station."

"Yes, sir."

Eaglewing saluted her commanding officer and turned to leave, intent on fulfilling her orders.

"One more thing."

She waited for Kluge to continue.

"See if you can track down Zolf Kimblee. I have a job for him."

* * *

_Alright, the plot is back in action. Just when things seem like they might be easy, Kluge asks for Zolf Kimblee. Now what could he want with him?_

_We'll find out in the next chapter._

_BTW: the inspiration I got for the look on Eddie's face when Ed gets him to drink milk comes directly from the manga, Chapter 21, Page 7. _

_Now, Ed must really love his son to drink milk for him, don't ya think?_

_And, for anyone who is curious, the artwork that inspired the image of Ed and Winry in the rain can be found on dzioo's gallery on deviantart. _

_It really is a beautiful piece of work and was actually one of my greatest inspirations when I was first coming up with this fic. _

_So, I hope you liked this chapter and if you missed Kluge and Eaglewing then I hope you were glad to see them again. As the gang prepare to head to Paris, Kluge and his men are going to be appearing more and more often._

_To everyone who has been reading, I hope you've been enjoying the story._

_To everyone who has reviewed, thank you so much for taking a little time to express your thoughts._

_To everyone who has wanted to review but hasn't, don't be shy! I'd love to hear what you think of the story thus far._

_No flames, please and thank you!_

_Regards and hugs for everyone!_

**Giant Nickel**


	14. Little Things

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. That credit goes to the genius Hiromu Arakawa._

**A/N:** _OK, so I know everyone was really pleased to see a return to the Kluge plot in the last chapter, and that is why I hope no one is too disappointed that this chapter involves very little action and is once again back to the dialogue/family drama format that has pretty much dominated the last several chapters. This is just filler. I really wanted to have one more look at these characters as a family unit before I send them off to Paris where they will eventually be separated. I also want to build on certain relationships, in particular the Ed/Eddie and Ed/Winry/Eddie ones._

_Also, something pretty major happens in this chapter. I'm sure all of you will figure it out. _

_So, don't be mad. In fact, I'm hoping you'll think this is cute._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Little Things**

_Germany_

_27. Sept. 28_

***

"Achoo!"

"Told you you'd catch a cold." Ed scolded smartly as Winry fumbled for a handkerchief on the side table.

"It's not a cold." she insisted as she wiped her nose. "Just the sniffles. The rain always makes my nose run."

"Bullshit." Ed muttered lowly enough that only Winry and not the other occupants in the room heard his curse.

Yafit and Eddie were happily playing with a set of tin trains. Paz was seated by the large sitting room window pretending that he was absorbed in a book of Edgar Allen Poe horror stories when he was really more interested in shooting furtive glances across the room at Ruth who was rather listlessly leaning against the radio, half-listening to a weather broadcast. The normally strong and active ten year old seemed transformed into a sullen and very sad little girl. In fact, it had not gone without notice that Ruth and Paz hadn't said a single word to each other since earlier in the afternoon, making the adults wonder if something had happened between the pair. However, they weren't speaking, and until they did, Ed, Winry, Al and Noa could only speculate. Al and Noa were sitting in the kitchen folding linens and chatting softly, both blushing adorably when their hands would brush together. Winry and Ed had overtaken the chesterfield, Ed stripped of his shirt and forced to hold his right arm over his head so that Winry could work on the nerve connectors inside of his armpit.

"Winry, you've been at this for twenty minutes. Can't we call it quits?" Ed groaned.

"Just a few more minutes, Ed. I think I've got it." Winry insisted, scooting closer to Ed, which forced her to throw her right leg across his lap and hike her nightgown up even more over her thighs.

Ed gulped, his golden eyes fixated on the pale skin revealed to him, beads of sweat gathering around his ears and neck. She was doing that infuriating tongue thing again and it was driving him up the wall with want for her. He wondered if he should suggest they move to the bedroom, for comfort's sake of course, and then, once they were locked away and alone, he was sure he could come up with some excuse for Winry to take off that damn nightgown…

"I can't stand this." he grunted.

"I know it's a pain, Ed, but if I can just get at the right connectors your shoulder won't ache so badly."

"Huh?" Ed asked, his mind momentarily suspended as he tried to decipher Winry's words.

What did his aching joints have to do with being horney?

"I'm going to loosen your nerve connectors, remember?" Winry asked, her large blue eyes questioning of her friend's memory. "The rain's made it really humid and you were complaining about the arthritis in your automail shoulder."

"Yeah." Ed answered slowly, his mind finally leaving the desperate needs of his crotch and returning to the moment at hand.

"I told you I'd learned of a way to alleviate some of the pain by loosening your primary nerve connector. Honestly, I know you find automail dull but please try and keep up." Winry lectured as she continued to probe inside of Ed's armpit, seeking the proper cable line. "This isn't working. Yafit, could you please go to my toolbox and grab the torch and red fabric and bring them to me?"

Always anxious to help, the six year old did as she was asked and brought the two items to Winry.

"Thank you." Winry said as she took the objects from the girl and turned on the torch so that she could get a better look at the interior of the automail. "I think I see it. Yafit, would you like to be my assistant?"

"OK." the little girl agreed, her bright smile reminding Winry so much of Elicia Hughes.

"Hold the torch so that the light shines here." Winry instructed, giving Yafit the tool. The six year old did as she was bade, a stern expression on her young face as she took her task very seriously. Winry smiled and unfolded the red fabric to remove the spectacles that were nestled inside. She put on the specialty glasses, fitted with a pair of magnifying lenses, and let the red fabric fall onto her lap without a second thought. Adjusting the focus on her glasses, Winry pressed her face close to the automail and resumed her work.

Ed smirked down at her.

"Don't start." She warned, knowing how ridiculous he looked in the glasses, allowing Ed only a few chuckles before punching him in the chest. Ed rubbed the spot where Winry had thumped him and rolled his eyes, resigned to the fact that he would be stuck on the couch, shirtless, with his right arm forced above his head until Winry was satisfied.

It could be a long night.

"Gnugh!"

Ed looked down to his left and spotted his son struggling to pull himself up onto the couch. Unable to move too much, Ed was able to grasp one of Eddie's arms and hoist him up. The little blond boy easily nestled himself at his father's side, leaning into Ed with a comfortable sigh. Ed looked down at Eddie with warm eyes and patted his head.

"What 'cha up to , little man?"

"Bored." Eddie answered. "I missed you today. I wanted to go, too."

"I know, Eddie. Soon, you'll get to come with me. I promise."

Eddie harrumphed and crossed his arms as he pouted.

"Are you mad? Even after I brought you back your favorite treat?" Ed asked a little incredulously. Eddie's large golden eyes strayed to the brown paper bag on the side table, pieces of soft black licorice peeking out from the opening. Still, Eddie said nothing and continued to sulk. "Well," Ed sighed, "I guess if you're so mad then you mustn't want the licorice. I'll just have to eat it by myself. _All_ of it."

"No!" Eddie demanded. "I be good. I not mad."

Ed chuckled at his child, remembering that he used to be just as compliant to his mother's every command whenever she threatened to not save a share of stew for him.

Relieved that his licorice wasn't going to be taken away, Eddie and his father lapsed into a cozy silence as Winry continued to tinker with Ed's automail.

After a few moments, Ed nudged Eddie. The three year old looked up at his father curiously. Ed had a mischievous smirk on his face and his calculating eyes were darting downward. Following his father's gaze, Eddie discovered that Winry's bare foot was resting before him. Still unsure of what his father was planning, Eddie watched as Ed stealthily snuck his left hand towards Winry's foot. With practiced fingers, Ed tickled Winry's defenseless appendage.

Eddie laughed as Winry's toes curls and she jolted her foot back and wiggled it around, doing her best to avoid Ed's fingers. Chuckling, Ed then took Eddie's hand and brought it to Winry's foot and together they ran their fingers all along the arch of her foot, poking at her toes and curving around her calloused heel. The whole time father and son were tickle-torturing her, Winry never uttered a protest. She was deeply concentrated on her work on Ed's automail, although she was lowly growling and gnashing her teeth together as she moved her foot back and forth in a futile attempt to escape Ed and Eddie's fingers. Delighted with the prank, Eddie began to chortle, the sound filling the apartment and spreading a magic throughout the room as if it was a fairy's spell.

The three year old slipped his small hand out of his father's and began to clap his hands as he expressed his joy.

Ed suddenly stopped laughing, his body stiff and alert, and his mind rigid and focused.

It was faint, barely a tingle, but it was a familiar jolt of electricity that made the hair on Ed's body stand on end and his heart rate speed up exponentially.

Alchemy.

He could feel alchemy in the air.

To explain the sensation of alchemy to a non-alchemist, one would claim the feeling was akin to an electric shock that formed at the base of the brain and traveled in one coursing wave down the spine and through the arms until it erupted from one's hands. It was energy and power that required control and concentration and those who were in-tune with that energy could sense it when someone close by was performing alchemy.

Ed hadn't felt that sharp electric rush in years.

After all, alchemy didn't exist on this side of the Gate…but this feelings in his blood…

It was an alchemic reaction, he knew it!

Eddie clapped his hands again.

Terrified, believing that it couldn't be true, that it wasn't possible, Ed turned towards his child.

Eddie was still giggling from the round of foot-tickling, clapping his hands in a natural, childish manner. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but that feeling…that feeling that there was alchemy…Ed had to be certain.

Holding his breath, the man who had once been known as the Fullmetal Alchemist watched his son's hands intently and waited. Just as the boy's palms were about to touch Ed was certain he could see a spark of blue energy…

"OUCH!"

"Got it!" Winry exclaimed happily, removing her glasses and smiling radiantly.

"Woman, that hurt!" Ed whined, gripping his right side just under his port.

"Consider it revenge for teaching your son how to be a brat." Winry grumbled. "So? How does your shoulder feel?"

Ed took a moment to collect his thoughts before rotating his shoulder. The sharp jolt from the shock had already faded and Ed focused on the movements of his right side, noting that the muscles around the port no longer burned with that terrible stiff ache. In fact, all that he could feel was a dull soreness, equivalent to how the muscles might burn after an intense workout.

"That's amazing!" Ed exclaimed, lowering his arm and flexing the fingers, surprised with the range of movement he still had. "It feels like all the pressure has been released."

"It has. The nerves need to be tight in order for the automail to perform at one hundred percent. By loosening the main connector at your port your arm is now at about sixty percent operational."

"Which means?"

"Don't try to pick up anything heavier than eighteen pounds with that arm. Otherwise, you'll completely detach all of your connectors and you'll have a dead arm."

"Seems like a lot of trouble just to alleviate some arthritis." Ed commented.

"Tell that to anyone who has automail at the height of the rainy season. Besides, you can't admit that you don't feel better." Winry answered, removing her glasses and stretching, the bones in her back popping softly.

"When will you tighten the nerve?" Ed wondered.

"In the morning. By then, this humidity shouldn't be so bad."

"Is it gonna hurt?" Ed asked wearily, unprepared to go trough the debilitating pain of limb connection every time it rained. Winry smiled sympathetically and gently patted Ed's automail arm.

"Just a shock, like when I loosened the nerve. I _know_ you felt that."

Winry chuckled and Ed grimaced.

Suddenly, Ed's head twisted to look at Eddie, still tucked against his side. The child was languidly playing with a loose thread on Ed's trousers, no longer clapping excitedly. There was no shift in the air, no strange current of electricity, no alchemic energy…nothing. Taking the three year old's hands, Ed forced them together in a clap, staring expectantly at the fingers, seeking that familiar rush of blue energy.

Still, there was nothing.

"Daddy?" Eddie asked. Ed sighed, releasing his son's hands and lowering his head in defeat.

He had been stupid to believe, even for a moment…

'_I can't believe I'm still having withdrawals after this long. I'm going crazy._' Ed mused as he passed a hand through his loose hair. Those rushed feelings of tingling power couldn't have come from Eddie. Alchemy didn't exist in this world. There was no possible way that Ed could have picked up on those specific energy waves. He had simply been feeling the backlash of Winry's nerve tampering, that last strong shock of energy obviously having come from her loosening his connector. That had been where the spine-tingling sensation came from.

It wasn't alchemy.

It wasn't possible.

"Well, now that that's done." Winry sighed, pushing herself off of the couch. "Thank you for being such a good helper, Yafit."

"You're welcome." Yafit answered, exceptionally pleased with herself. She smiled up at Winry with adoring eyes before spotting something on the floor by the mechanic's feet and picked it up. "What's this?"

Winry and Ed looked down at the six year old girl. She was holding the red fabric by a corner leaving the mark that was on it open for all in the room to see.

Al gasped.

Ed gaped.

Winry blushed.

Ed slowly took the fabric from Yafit. He reverently ran his fingers over the black markings that stood out starkly against the red, as if in a trance. His thumbs traced over the form of the serpent delicately.

"Flamel's Cross." Ed sighed. "Winry? Where did you get this?"

"I…well, you see…uh…look, when you and Al were gone I got lonely so I had a red coat made that looked like the ones you used to wear. It…it made me feel like you and Al were walking beside me. But then when I came here Gracia thought I should burn all of my old clothes. I wanted to keep that symbol, though. Even though I never really understood what it meant, it was a part of you two…the only part I had left, really."

Ed stayed quiet as he continued to caress the black symbol on red fabric. Al joined his older brother in admiring the small piece of their lives, of their art, that they had never thought they would see or touch again.

"It's an alchemy symbol that dates back hundreds of years in our country." Al stated softly, also reaching out to touch the symbol. "It represents the 'truth'. An alchemist is supposed to seek and spread the truth with their science. Alchemists have the ability to destroy and create, and that knowledge wields a great responsibility…this symbol…Teacher's symbol…we wore it so that we would always remember how dangerous alchemy is, not just for us, but for everyone."

"You two _would_ carry something heavy like this on your backs all those years." Winry joked. "I just thought it looked interesting."

"You _would_ think that." Ed parroted.

"Do you want it back?" Winry asked.

"Naw." Ed said, taking Winry's mechanic's glasses from her and wrapping them securely in the fabric. "You can hang on to it for me."

"Alright." Winry said, putting the glasses and red cloth back in her toolbox and then rejoined the group to enjoy a fairly peaceful evening, the only outbursts Winry's occasional loud sneezes.

* * *

_Germany_

_29. Sept. 28_

***

"Hello?"

"Yo! Ed? That you?"

"Maybe."

"Uno est omnis. Omnis est Uno."

"Tout est le monde. L'un m'est."

"Do we have to do this every time I call?" Hughes grunted, annoyed. "A code in foreign languages won't mean a thing if the phones are tapped."

"Good thing the number is unavailable to anyone who hasn't personally been told it by me." Ed answered smartly.

"You mean good thing nobody's thought of tapping the phones in your building. I swear, Ed, Kluge would have your ass on a platter if I was his right-hand man." Hughes griped.

"Yeah." Ed responded sadly. "Guess I'm lucky."

"Ah, come on! Why do you always sound sad when I joke about that? You know I'd never actually team up with that man. I mean, you hate the bastard just as much as I do." Hughes argued.

"Is there something you have to report?" Ed grumbled, not prepared to get into a discussion about the sometimes jarring reversal of the relationship between Hughes and Mustang. It only brought up bad memories and things Ed didn't want to dwell on.

"Oh, you're moody. I thought you'd be a little more relaxed now that your girlfriend was with you."

"I'm not talking about this, Hughes! Be serious!" Ed bellowed, a vein in his forehead beginning to throb. It was really amazing. Even after all of these years, whenever he was being teased about his relationship with Winry, Ed completely lost his cool.

"So you're not getting anywhere with her, eh?" Hughes sympathized. "Don't worry about it, Ed. Gracia did the same thing to me, the tease. Pretending not to want me while cleverly ensnaring me with her coy smile and come-hither eyes. One day, I just couldn't take it anymore! So I pulled her into my arms and bent her over…"

"Bullshit! You were so shy with her that she had to ask you out first! Now cut the crap and tell me why you fucking called!" Ed roared, his face magenta with unbridled horror as he envisioned just what Hughes had done when he took Gracia in his arms and bent her over.

Ed shuddered.

"Daddy said a bad word." Eddie squealed happily from his perch on the kitchen counter. Ed rolled his eyes, knowing he was in for another lecture from Noa if she found out that he had cursed in front of Eddie.

By mistake.

Again.

"Listen, Ed, I'm calling because Kluge's up to something."

"What? Is he sending another artillery shipment across the boarder?"

"No, but according to Armstrong, Kluge's been seeking other transportation for his current shipment. He's only managed to change trains at the Freiburg station, so far. I don't have a train number, but I do know that it is scheduled to leave one day earlier than originally planned."

"Damn!" Ed hissed. "We need a number. If I loose track of those weapons I won't be able to find out why Kluge's having them shipped to Paris."

"We've still got five days." Hughes consoled. "If you have to go on ahead with Al and Noa and Winry have to stay behind with the kids, then that shouldn't be too much of an issue. I doubt Winry would mind."

"Yeah." Ed muttered, lowering his head in proper guilt.

After that long night of baring himself to Winry for her to reject or accept, after discovering that they finally had a chance to truly be together, after swearing that he would never keep a single secret from her, Ed had chosen _not_ to tell Winry of his plan to track Kluge's weapons into Paris while at the same time escorting Yafit, Paz and Ruth to their new families. If he told her about the mission to follow an artillery train and infiltrate Kluge's storehouse, Winry would only worry, or tell him it was dangerous, or make him promise to not go or worse, she might demand to come along.

And Ed wouldn't risk her.

Not again.

So instead, he risked her trust in him by keeping this one secret. After the mission was over, after he knew what Kluge was planning, then Ed would tell Winry. She would be mad, he didn't doubt, and she would rant and threaten and likely beat him severely with her stupid wrench, but in the end, she would forgive him because she would come to realize that he was trying to protect her.

That was his decision and that outcome was the best he could hope for.

"There's something else." Hughes said, cutting through Ed's personal dilemma. "Riza Spitzer, aka Eaglewing, left the Fortress two days ago. She hasn't been seen since and her whereabouts are unknown."

"That's weird." Ed admitted.

"It's more than weird, it's unheard of." Hughes stressed his voice thick with crucial seriousness. "You need to understand, Ed, Roy Kluge would _never_ let Riza Spitzer out of his sight unless it was for something of major importance. If she's not in the Fortress and no one can account for her whereabouts except for Kluge, then this is critical."

"You make it sound like he's in love with her." Ed joked lamely, having been long aware that there was an unspoken, emotional relationship between Kluge and his bodyguard. The knowledge that the Roy and Riza from his world had married and started a family only strengthened Ed's belief in the bond between Kluge and Eaglewing. Still, Ed did not fully grasp why Eaglewing's absence from the Fortress was as crucial a detail as Hughes believed it to be.

"Do not take this lightly." Hughes warned. "It might seem like something of little matter, but if Kluge sent Riza away you can bet it must involve something very dangerous. I'll keep my nose to the ground and try to trace her. I've also got Armstrong looking for any useful information. When I learn more about the train I'll let you know. Goodbye."

Hughes hung up and Ed stared at the phone, the dead silence holding him captive as his mind processed what his friend had told him. It wasn't often that Maes Hughes became overwhelmingly serious so it made one pay keen attention.

"Daddy! Water's boiling!" Eddie reported, his little voice tinged with the slightest traces of worry. Ed hung up the phone and turned back to his son.

Eddie was seated on the kitchen counter, a foot away from the stove, his golden eyes focused on the large pot whose contents were bubbling. Ed wasn't worried about Eddie burning himself. The child had already suffered a nasty burn to his left hand six months ago when he had touched the stove after he had been warned not to. Like his father, Eddie was a fast learner and Ed was confident that a repeat of the incident wasn't likely to occur.

"Hand me the empty bowl." Ed asked as he stood before the pot. Eddie did and watched with quiet interest as his father fished out two large soup bones and placed them in the bowl. "Now the carrots." Eddie followed Ed's instructions with perfect precision, passing his father handfuls of the chopped vegetables. He was proud to be helping his father cook, especially because he had never known his father to cook anything.

"Is it soup yet?" Eddie asked once Ed had added onions, potatoes, celery, garlic, cabbage, some herbs and a few scraps of beef.

"Not yet, but soon." Ed promised.

"Is it gonna make Winnie better?"

"I hope so. Your grandma Trisha used to make this soup for me whenever I got sick and I always felt better after I had some."

"Magic soup!" Eddie chirped.

"That's what your granny called it." Ed said with a smile as he patted his child on the head. "You're a good helper. I think this will make Winry feel all better."

Like Ed had predicted two days ago when they got caught in the rain, Winry had indeed caught a slight cold. The whole day before she had done nothing but sneeze and complain about achy muscles and some inflammation around the stitches in her left arm. She had been hoping to remove the threads from her wound, but had decided to wait for the swelling to go down before attempting that. When she had awoken the following morning, still sneezing, still achy and still stuck with an inflamed injury, Ed had forced Winry to spend the day in bed and recover. He gave her free reign of his room, left a cup and water jug on the bedside table, put some salve on her stitches, gave her some aspirin and told her to wait in bed and read while he made her some soup.

Al, Noa, Ruth, Paz and Yafit had decided to spend the day out in the city. Not only would it be one of the last chances that they would get to be together, but it wouldn't do for any of them to catch Winry's sniffles just before they were to leave for Paris. So it was Ed, Eddie and Winry in the apartment.

For Ed, it was comfortable to be alone with just Eddie and Winry. In a way, it felt like the three of them were a family, which was as wonderful as it was surreal. Up until a week ago, Ed had only dreamed of what his life would be like if he and Winry had ended up together. It had been a perfect ideal, something he could never actually achieve. And now, here he was with his son, making his mother's beef vegetable soup for an ailing Winry.

Ed smiled.

This feeling of the three of them being a family…it was nice.

Really nice.

"Daddy?" Eddie asked quietly. Ed stopped stirring the soup to look at his son.

"Yes?"

"Is…is Winnie my mommy?"

Ed frowned instantly and Eddie lowered his golden gaze in shame, his chubby fingers playing with the buttons on his trousers. Reaching into his back pocket, Ed pulled out his wallet and removed a frayed and creased photograph. He held the picture up for Eddie to see and urged the three year old to look at the smiling woman whose image was forever captured in black and white on the thick card.

It was Manka, dressed in a simple gown on the day she and Ed married. She was smiling happily, her black eyes shinning like dark little stars. It was the only photograph Ed had of his late wife and he had kept it on his person for the last three years knowing a time would come when Eddie would ask about his mother. The boy had already seen the picture many times, had listened to Ed tell stories about Manka and her piano playing and her unending love for her child. He had asked before where his mother was and tried very hard to understand the concept and limitations of death. Ed had believed Eddie had a grasp on what it meant to be dead, but the boy's question about Winry proved that the three year old was having difficulties comprehending his relationships to both women.

"This is your mommy, Eddie. Remember? I've showed you this picture a hundred times." Ed explained softly, placing a large comforting hand on Eddie's knee.

"I 'member." Eddie mumbled, taking the picture from his father. "You said mommy died and that now she was in the earth and in the trees and in the animals. You said she's everywhere, so I thought…if she's everywhere, isn't she in Winnie, too?"

"Oh, buddy." Ed sighed, kissing the child's brow. "It's different for people. You're mommy's son, so you are the only person in the whole world that has a part of her inside of you. I don't, and neither does Uncle Al or Auntie Noa or Winry."

"Oh…"

"But that little piece of your mommy inside of you…that makes you very, very special. You should be happy." Ed reasoned as best he could. Eddie studied the picture of his mother a little longer before handing it back to his father. Ed placed the photograph back into his wallet and hugged his child.

"So, if Winnie's not my mommy…then who is she?" Eddie wondered.

Biting his lip, Ed took a moment to try and explain Winry's place in Eddie's life that wouldn't be beyond the three year old's level of understanding. To be honest, Ed himself wasn't even sure of the role Winry was going to play in their lives. While they had spoken of their pasts and agreed that there was a long-lasting attraction between them, Winry had suggested that they not pursue a relationship right away and instead take the time to discover the adults they had become. That, however, implied that he and Winry _would_ be together romantically in the future, which would mean that she would be Eddie's stepmother…

Ed could feel a headache coming on, hoping he wasn't catching some of Winry's cold.

In truth, Ed didn't think he and Winry needed to take the time to rediscover each other. He knew everything about Winry that was important, like her indomitable spirit, her generosity, her courage and strength and her passion of her work and for life. If he could have things his way, he and Winry would be…well, not _just_ friends. But he had waited for her, mourned her, loved her, and he respected her, and if Winry wanted to take things slow then he wouldn't argue.

Still, how to explain that to Eddie…

Placing his hand on Eddie's head, Ed forced the child to look him in the eye as he spoke.

"She's your Winnie." Ed stated firmly. "And she'll _always_ be your Winnie."

Eddie nodded slowly and Ed hoped the three year old understood. He wanted Eddie to like Winry, to respect her and look up to her and maybe, one day, to think of her as a mother.

However, who knew when, or if, that day would come.

"Here, have a taste." Ed asked, wanting to change the subject. He dipped a wooden spoon into the soup and offered it to Eddie. The three year old blew on the steaming liquid and took a tentative sip.

"Yummy." he said honestly.

"Think Winry will like it?"

"Yup! It'll make her all better." Eddie assured. Ed smiled and began to prepare a tray for Winry, including a few pieces of bread slathered with butter and some cheese to go along with the soup. He even cut up a peach he had swiped from a fruit stand and arranged the pieces delicately on a plate before filling a bowl of hot beef soup. Helping Eddie off of the counter, Ed then took the tray into his bedroom.

"You can't come in, Eddie." Ed warned, knowing the three year old was hoping to sneak into the bedroom by walking closely behind his father. "You don't want to catch Winry's cold."

"It's hardly a cold, Ed." Winry grumbled. "It's just the sniffles and few aching muscles. I'm actually much better than I was yesterday."

"That's because today you rested and stayed in bed like I told you to." Ed answered smartly, waiting for Winry to shuffle some of the books she had been reading aside so that he could place the tray on her lap.

"It's good soup, Winnie. Daddy made it." Eddie reported, standing in the doorway of the bedroom cutely. The pride in his voice as he spoke of his father's kind gesture did not go unnoticed by the incapacitated mechanic.

"I think I'm scared." Winry teased, dipping her spoon in the soup and giving the dark brown broth a critical inspection.

"Just eat it." Ed moaned, filling her glass with water and taking a seat beside her on the bed. "So, what have you been reading?"

"History." Winry answered, taking a small sip of soup and swirling it around in her mouth as if she was a noted wine taster. Ed watched her with an annoyed expression as she made a show of savoring the soup and swallowing it.

"Did you taste the poison I snuck in there?" he asked, his voice soaked in sarcasm. Winry stuck out her tongue and continued to slurp the soup with healthy vigor.

"Not bad." she offered. "Almost as good as my apple pie. I'll have to make you some."

"That'd be great. It's my favorite." Ed said, relaxing beside her. He looked back towards the door and noticed his son was still standing in the archway, desperate to cross the barrier and sit with his father and Winry. He looked sad and put out, like a puppy kept locked in a house on a sunny afternoon. "Eddie, go grab a cushion and some toys and bring them to the door. You can't come in but you can sit by the door and talk to us, OK."

"Kay!" Eddie squealed happily before running off.

"Doesn't take much to make him happy." Ed whispered in amazement.

"That's just because he likes to be close to you." Winry answered, dipping a piece of bread into the soup. "I can understand how he feels."

Ed blushed at Winry's words and moved himself a little closer to her so that their thighs were brushing together. They sat in silence for a moment, Winry eating and Ed daydreaming, before Eddie returned to the doorway. He sat down on a large cushion which looked like it came from the plush chair in the sitting room, and he held in his arms the model automail hand Winry had given him to play with as there were no sharp edges he could hurt himself on. He sat contentedly on the cushion, smiled at the adults on the bed and began to tinker with the mechanical appendage.

"Only you would give a kid automail to play with." Ed groused, images flashing through his mind of his son frolicking among a field of screwdrivers and wrenches.

"Oh please! I was playing with automail when I was even younger than Eddie and look how I turned out." Winry said with pride. Before Ed could offer a smart-ass reply, Winry shoved the book she had been reading into his hands and returned to sipping her soup. "Go on, read to me and Eddie." she ordered.

"Where were you?" Ed asked, looking down at the book and noticing it was text on Greek mythology.

"Read about the hero who flew too close to the sun with wax wings. That one was always your favorite, wasn't it?" Winry asked. Ed smiled softly at the woman beside him and sunk deeper into the mattress before flipping the pages of the book to the proper chapter. Clearing his throat, Ed began to read.

* * *

"OK, we're here. You can pick any pastry you want." Al promised.

"Really?!" Yafit exclaimed, pulling excitedly on Al's hair as she jostled around on his shoulders. "I can get anything?"

"Sure." Al answered, his smile brilliant and warm.

"That movie was so good!" Yafit said. "My favorite part was when the building fell and the man didn't get squished but went right through the window! What was his name, again?"

"Buster Keaton." Al answered, adjusting his hold on Yafit.

The seventeen year old kept one hand clutched around the child's ankle, the other swung by his side, purposely brushing against the warm coffee colored skin of the Roma woman who walked bedside him. His fingers reached out for hers, enticing and charming like a butterfly's wings, coaxing her to try and capture them. He couldn't contain his overjoyed grin when Noa took his invitation and linked her fingers tightly with his, her gentle smile equally matching his in contentedness. They were holding hands, enjoying each other's company as well as the distraction offered by the three children that they would soon have to reluctantly give up.

After Noa's fight with Ruth two days ago, and because of Winry's minor cold, Al had decided that a day out with the kids was in order. Though their funds were already stretched thin, Al managed to get together enough marks to afford an afternoon movie and a pastry each for everyone from a nearby bakery.

"Do you know what you're going to get?" Al asked Yafit.

"A cinnamon roll." the child answered immediately. "And I want it this big!" She stretched her arms out as far as they would go to emphasize her desire.

"That big?!" Al asked. "You'll never eat it all!

"Yes I will!" Yafit said confidently. "And I'm not gonna share, 'specially not with Ruth."

Speaking of the ten year old, Al and Noa turned their attention towards the moody girl, noting that she didn't acknowledge Yafit's quip and, in fact, hadn't been tormenting the younger girl for nearly two days.

Not since the fight.

For two days Ruth had been disturbingly subdued, completely unlike her usual fiery self, and what bothered Noa and Al the most was that Paz, just as vibrant and hot-headed as Ruth, had also been suspiciously quiet for those same two days. They were acting terribly awkward around one another, something that had never been an issue before. Noa hadn't failed to notice that Ruth and Paz were going to extreme lengths to avoid one another, even refusing to look at each other, and always keeping Al, Noa and Yafit as a comfortable three person barrier between them. As it was, Ruth was currently dragging her feet alongside Noa while Paz was slowly strolling beside Al.

Seeing the ten year old girl glance with fright at Paz for easily the fiftieth time, Noa decided that something had to be done, especially when they were so close to sending the children away, likely to never see them again.

She was hoping that she could say goodbye to Ruth having forgiven and forgotten their angry words, but if that was not possible, Noa refused to leave Ruth when the young girl was so obviously confused and troubled with Paz.

"Alphonse, you Paz and Yafit go on into the bakery. Ruth and I will find a place to sit in the outdoor veranda." Noa suggested. Her husband threw her a curious glance but did not question her when he spotted the calm determination in her dark brown eyes. He nodded, released her hand, placed an arm around Paz's shoulders, and walked into the bakery.

Noa put a hand on the top of Ruth's head and directed the ten year old towards an empty table set along the side of the bakery. When she sat down she encouraged Ruth to sit on her lap, cradling the girl as if she was an infant. Ruth didn't push away from Noa's arms, instead falling into them like a weary wanderer. Noa smiled and stroked Ruth's hair.

"Tell me what's wrong." Noa said softly.

"I don't want to go." Ruth began shakily. Noa hugged Ruth closer to her and sighed.

"I won't fight with you about this again." Noa stated. "It is something neither of us can help and whether we like it or not, you're leaving soon. Please don't make our last days together miserable."

"Humph!" Ruth grumbled. She was still angry, but she didn't slide off of Noa's lap which the Roma took as a good sign.

"Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Paz?" Noa asked.

"No-noth-nothing." Ruth said, turning way from Noa.

"Now, Ruth…" Noa began, placing a warm hand on the ten year old's cheek and gently urging her to look her in the eye. "I can't help you if you won't tell me what happened. Was Paz rude? Did he hurt your feelings? Did he say something mean?"

"No!" Ruth cried, her ardent declaration earning the curious stares of those sitting around them. Ruth paid them no mind, however, her brown eyes boring into Noa's and begging her to understand. "Paz didn't say anything mean to me! He said…well…he said…oh Miss Noa!"

Ruth hugged the woman tightly, her small frame shaking as she held back her confused tears.

"Ruth," Noa said, "if you don't want to tell me, then I could look into your mind and see what happened. I'll only do this if you want me to."

Ruth didn't speak for a long while, trying fervently to control her shaking before daring to look up at the woman holding her. The ten year old nodded her consent and Noa quickly cleared her mind and channeled her psychic powers so that they were focused on Ruth's specific mental waves. She touched her brow to Ruth's, continuing to stroke the girl's hair as a strong encouragement to relax and let Noa into her memories. The fact that Noa found the specific memory easily hinted at Ruth's willingness to share the experience with the Roma woman. Waiting for the images to come into focus, Noa directed all of her senses onto the memory that Ruth was imparting to her, realizing that she was seeing that rainy afternoon two days ago when they had fought. The images began to clear and Noa realized that, after she and Alphonse had closed themselves in their bedroom, Ruth had made a mad dash for the bathroom where she began to silently sob…

* * *

_Ruth clutched onto the sink as she tried to control her tears. She hated crying, and ever since she had been beaten into unconsciousness by the workhouse supervisor for wailing after breaking her toe on a textile machine, Ruth had learned to cry in silence. She thought she was going to be sick. _

_How could she have said such horrible things to Miss Noa? The woman had done nothing but care for her, perhaps even loved her like a daughter, and she had spat every kindness back in her face. She really was a wretched little spawn, just as her mother had claimed before sending her to the workhouse. _

_"Ruth?"_

_Horrified at being caught weeping, Ruth threw an incensed look at the person who stood in the doorway. _

_It was Paz._

_He was looking at her with large, overly worried blue eyes that seemed to be twice as big as his head from behind his reading glasses. He was frowning at her and looking so terribly sympathetic that she became enraged. _

_He was pitying her!_

_He had no right!_

_"Go away!" she spat. _

_"Why did you say such mean things to Miss Noa?"_

_"Get out!"_

_"She's been nothing but nice to you!" Paz yelled, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "She's treated all of us like a mother, so you had no right to…"_

_"I'm scared!" Ruth roared, no longer able to keep her composer. She let the tears fall down her cheeks, her breath hitching, her nose running and her eyes storming like the deluge outside._

_Paz seemed distressed by Ruth's uncommon reaction to his lecturing. Normally she would simply bicker back at him or tell him to jump out a window. She had never once actually admitted to him what the core of her grief was. He just stood there like a pillar of stone and when his presence should have comforted her, it only made Ruth even angrier. _

_"Why don't you do anything?!" Ruth demanded, clenching her fists and taking a threatening step towards him. _

_"Why are you scared?" Paz asked steadily, though his voice did shake a little. _

_"Because they're sending us away! Because…because…because what if the people they send us to don't treat us nice? Have you thought of that?"_

_"They'd never send us to people who would hurt us." Paz said, his simple and unquestioned faith in the adults that took care of them humbling Ruth's doubt. Still, she was just so angry._

_"You wouldn't understand." Ruth said bitterly. "I've never had anyone care about me, not before Miss Noa or Mister Al or Mister Edward. My real mom was a whore." _

_Ruth smirked when she saw Paz's jaw drop in shock. She had never talked to anyone about her past because she didn't like to remember it. However, Ruth couldn't seem to keep a plug on her pain any longer. If Paz wanted to know why she was so mad, then she was going to tell him._

_"I don't know who my real father is. I asked my mom once and she told me that I could go around questioning every man in Berlin and I still might not find him. She never loved me and she never wanted me, and I know this because she told me so every day. When I was six, she sold me to the workhouse for five hundred marks. In that place, you were on your own. I was beaten all the time, starved, too! I would run away over and over again, but they would always catch me. And then, the last time, I hid in the sewers. I was there for weeks. I…I thought I was going to die, but then Mister Edward found me. He brought me here and fed me and gave me warm water and clothes…for the first time…for the first time I had a family, and now they're sending me away just like my mother!"_

_"Ruth…"_

_"Just shut up! You don't understand! You'll never understand what it's like to be sent away by people you care about." Ruth decided firmly. A long, drawn-out silence filled the bathroom, but the tension did not dissipate. Looking closely at Paz, Ruth realized for the first time that the twelve year old looked as if he was trying desperately to keep from crying. _

_"My mother and father live in Austria." Paz began, his words even and clear, immediately catching Ruth's notice. Just as she had chosen to never divulge her hard past to others, Paz had also never spoken of his life before coming to live with the Elrics. _

_He had her full attention._

_"My father is a professor of music at the University of Vienna. My mother works part-time at the school's library. They are both full citizens, but both of them also have Jewish ancestry. My maternal grandmother and my paternal great-grandparents are Jewish. I wasn't raised Jewish, neither were my parents, but my dad thinks that, very soon, it won't matter. All that will matter, in time, is whether or not your family line is pure Aryan. About a year ago, a colleague of my dad's who has ties with some powerful military associates began to ask personal questions about my family. Dad figured that they're already weeding out the pure from the impure, so he contacted a friend of a friend and ended up making an arrangement with Mister Edward to take me in and get me out of Europe…Mom and dad couldn't come, too. It just wouldn't be safe."_

_Paz gulped loudly when he finished telling his story to Ruth, stepping a little closer to her and catching her eye so that they were both looking directly at each other. _

_Brown met blue, and for two children so young, a lifetime of hurt and pain could be seen reflected in their eyes. _

_"I know what it's like to be sent away by people you love. When mom and dad made me leave with Mister Edward and Mister Al and they brought me to Berlin and I met Miss Noa and you and Yafit…I didn't want to care about any of you. But I've been here for seven months and I do care, and now that we're going to leave in a few more days I feel like I'm being sent away from my mom and dad all over again!" Paz's voice began to rise in volume and his blue eyes seemed to come alive with a cool fire. "So don't tell me that I don't understand! I'm the one who understands best!"_

_He reached out and gripped her upper arms, shaking her in his desperation. Ruth was startled by this aggressive side of Paz and couldn't find a reason to explain why her heart was pounding and her face hot. In all of their past quarrels Paz had never become so passionate, nor had she ever become so flustered. _

_"I know you think of Mister Al and Miss Noa as your parents. I do, too! And…"_

_Paz paused a moment, his nose turning an enticing crimson that had Ruth hypnotized. _

_"What?" she found herself asking breathily. _

_"I…I-I kn-know how you feel about Mister Edward."_

_"What?!" Ruth repeated, her voice no longer sounding like it was lost in a dream. It was squeaky and panicked and had a hard edge of the obnoxious personality that made Ruth who she was. _

_"You like him…you fancy him. That's why you've been so grouchy ever since Miss Winry arrived."_

_"I-I-I…I have not!" Ruth stuttered, horrified that her feelings for the golden blond man had been somewhat obvious, and that Paz of all people had be the one to inform her. "I don't like him." she lied. "Not like that."_

_"That's crap." Paz declared, giving her another shake, his face getting closer and closer and Ruth's heartbeat getting faster and faster. His eyes were so clear, the slightest glistening of unshed frustrated tears collecting in the corners. _

_"I know you like Mister Edward because he's strong and smart and brave, and I know I'm not, but…well, I'm not done growing yet! And even if I'm not, I'll always be around to protect you! Mister Edward's not going to America, but I am and no matter what happens, I'll be there and I'll always watch out for you! So, you don't have to be scared, Ruth. You don't have to be scared because I won't ever let myself be sent away from you!"_

_The weight of Paz's words settled over the children, making the bathroom seem much smaller than it actually was. Both were blushing, frozen in place for a few never ending minutes before Paz violently pushed himself away from Ruth and walked out of the room, leaving a shaken and terribly confused Ruth behind…_

* * *

Noa lifted her brow from Ruth's and looked down at the quiet girl with wide, wondering eyes.

No wonder she had been throwing Paz those strange, worried looks. Any ten year old would be confused after such a confession. Seeing Ruth look up at her, her expression begging for an explanation, Noa just smiled warmly and hugged the girl.

"Oh, Ruth." she said. "Paz was just trying to tell you he cares about you."

"But…but he said…"

"He wants to protect you, just like I do. That's why, no matter how much it hurts me and you, I'll send you to America. I care more about you being alive than I care about my happiness." Noa declared passionately.

"Yeah, Mister Al said something like that." Ruth sighed. "I'm sorry, Miss Noa! I'm sorry I yelled. I don't hate you!"

Ruth hugged Noa tightly and the Roma woman accepted the girl's apology eagerly. She was glad that Ruth understood how hard it was to give her up to another family. Noa had come to regard Ruth as her very own daughter and when she thought of going to Paris to greet the American family that would take Ruth away, Noa couldn't help the sinking feelings of abandonment. However, she wouldn't let her emotions rule over her logic. Noa had seen the future of Europe in her psychic nightmares and knew of the horrors that would eventually come. No child should have to witness such atrocities, and if Noa was able to spare all of the innocent, she would.

Besides, Paz would protect Ruth. He had promised.

" I'm happy that everything is better between us." Noa admitted.

"Yes." Ruth agreed, smiling brightly. While the ten year old still didn't fully understand what it was that Paz had been trying to say to her that day in the bathroom, she was glad that she had chosen to share the incident with Noa. She felt better.

"Hey."

Turning around in Noa's lap, Ruth's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Paz was standing in front of the two women, one hand outstretched and holding a fresh, gooey honey bun. He was looking down at his feet rather than Ruth or Noa, an adorable stripe of red running across his nose.

"Here." he said, pushing the honey bun towards Ruth. "I asked them to sprinkle some cinnamon on top. That's how you like it, right?"

"Yeah…" Ruth whispered, gently taking the steaming pastry from Paz. "Thanks."

"Sure." Paz mumbled, moving to take a seat at the table and nibbling on his molasses cookie. Al and Yafit joined the trio and the little family all ate in comfortable companionship before making their way back to the apartment.

It didn't escape Al's notice that Ruth and Paz walked side by side, just behind himself and Noa, quietly speaking to each other in shy tones.

"Why's Ruth and Paz being so nice? How come they're not fighting?" Yafit asked, her lips and cheeks sticky with syrup from her cinnamon roll.

"Because Paz did something nice for Ruth." Noa answered vaguely.

"That's right. He brought her a honey bun." Al added, not aware of the events that had occurred between the pair two days ago. Noa linked hands with her husband and smiled, making a note that she would have to tell him about Paz's passionate promise to Ruth when they had a private moment.

"That's a silly reason." Yafit answered. "A honey bun isn't nothing special."

"That's not true." Al said, his voice gentle and wise. "You don't have to do something really big or fancy to be nice to someone. Often, it's the little things we do that say the most about how much we care about someone."

And when the group of five returned to their apartment, a pot of cold soup on the stove, Eddie tucked in on the cushioned chair and Ed and Winry dozing against each other in Ed's bed, Al knew that it really did only take a small gesture to speak a thousand ways about how deeply you loved someone.

After all, Ed hated to cook.

* * *

_Oh my gosh! This chapter is long! I think it's the longest one yet! Oh well, readers like long chapters._

_Right?_

_So, I hope everyone liked this. It's actually one of my favorites so far. I really enjoy writing and reading about Ed/Winry/Eddie being all domestic. And I'm really pleased with the Al/Noa/other kids side story, too. Did you like the whole Ruth/Paz thing? I'm sure most of you saw that coming. I'm trying to capture some of the innocence of young love with these two characters. In a way, they juxtapose the way Ed and Winry used to feel about each other before they became adults and hormones and sex and major life-altering events changed not only them, but also their love. It's still present, still just as strong, but it's different than what it once was. _

_I was also really glad to see (well, hear) Hughes again. He's a lot of fun to write, and he'll be making another appearance in a future chapter (but I'm not gonna tell you which one because then I'd have no fun). _

_I know this is basically a filler chapter, but I needed it to establish some very important things, namely, of course, Eddie's relationship with Winry and how he sees it. I think Ed handled the 'is Winnie my mommy?' question really well. It's hard to explain death to a ten year old, never mind a three year old, and I just can't see Ed telling his child that his mother is an angel in heaven with God since Ed doesn't believe in that. Despite wanting to spare his son pain, I think Ed would want to raise Eddie to know the truth about such heavy concepts as death, and so he would live by the credo of 'One is all. All is one". It's a good way to explain the cycle of life, and as Eddie gets older, he'll begin to understand it better and better. _

_Anyway, as always I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. And I promise, the next few chapters are going to be full of plot and action and suspense and intrigue, so enjoy this peace while you can!_

_Please, take the time to leave a review and let me know what you think of things so far. No flames, please and thank you!_

_Regards,_

**Giant Nickel **


	15. Don't Forget

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist._

**A/N:** _So, now we're starting to get into the thick of things. What will happen as Ed, Al, Winry and the gang venture out of Berlin and make the trek to Paris? While Ed believes he's figured everything out, you know it's not going to be as easy as he thinks. And if you recall, Ed is keeping a secret from Winry: he's not telling her about his ulterior motives for going to Paris. What's going to happen when Winry finds out? What will become of her and Ed's tenuous relationship? Will any of these questions be answered in this chapter? Read on to find out!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Don't Forget**

_Germany _

_2. Oct. 28_

***

"An unusual time for a gathering, wouldn't you say, Roy? Do you always entertain at such strange hours, because that's rude, you know."

Kluge snarled lowly and flashed a dangerous look at his late night guest before taking a seat in his high back black leather chair. He eyed the mass murderer that sat on the other side of the oak desk, noting that he had grown his hair out since the last time they were in each other's company. Other than the long dark ponytail, the man hadn't changed over that last ten years. He still had the same unsettling aura about him. The man was always too calm, too relaxed, to have eyes as hard and predatory as a cougar's, but then that was why Zolf J. Kimblee was Germany's greatest assassin.

Or at least, he _had_ been Germany's one time renowned top killer until his execution by firing squad in the winter of 1919.

Due to his innumerable crimes against humanity during the Great War, political pressure enforced by the Treaty of Versailles and the insistence of the higher-ups in the German government, Zolf Kimblee, code name Hochroter Tod, was paraded before a firing squad within the courtyard of the Justizvollzugsanstalt Stadelheim and shot until dead. His execution was attested to by a handful of witnesses and his body was buried in an unmarked grave. For the last decade nearly the entire world believed the feared Hochroter Tod had been eaten by maggots and reduced to dust.

Saving Kimblee's life had really been far too easy.

It was under the orders of General Grumman that a last minute switch was made between Kimblee and a petty prisoner who had been arrested for theft. Kimblee himself had been paraded before the witnesses to the execution and then when he was taken by a guard (Kluge) to be escorted to the courtyard, the switch was made.

It was procedure to cloak the face of the condemned in a black sack before taking them out to the firing squad. Having seen the real Kimblee, the witnesses were unaware that the Hochroter Tod was not the man whose head was concealed under the black bag. They watched the man stand before the guns, they watched him fall as a dozen bullets riddled his body, and they watched as the lifeless stump was taken away to be put in the ground. No one save Kluge and General Grumman knew that as a priest was saying a prayer over the damned that Kimblee was alive and well and being ferreted across the boarder into Belgium.

Grumman had wanted Kimblee alive to keep him on as his own personal assassin. While Kimblee was not a man of loyalties he did understand gratitude and debt, and so he took on jobs for the General until the man's decorated death six years ago. After that, he had vanished, becoming a hired gun. Kluge himself had never been especially interested in dealing with the assassin until this convoluted Elric situation had become critical.

Elric knew about the weapons.

That was unacceptable!

Kluge couldn't allow the bastard to trace those guns into Paris. He needed the bomb first, and to get the bomb, he needed that woman.

"So, what could the esteemed Commander Kluge want from a dead man like me?" Kimblee drawled, smirking at a man that most dared not look in the eye.

"I have a job for you."

"Oh, delightful!" Kimblee cheered. "So, who do you want dead? A military rival? Political head? Chancellor Müller?! I could kill him easily, the old rhinoceros. I killed that silly archduke in 1914 without breaking a sweat, you know, so the Chancellor would hardly be a challenge."

Kluge had to swallow his disgust at Kimblee's bragging. The man was repulsingly proud of his kills even though there was no honor in what he did. As a soldier, Kimblee was redeemable, but to sell his skills to the highest bidder made him no better than the rodents that roamed the damp cells of the Fortress.

If he didn't need him he would have never sent Eaglewing into the frozen wasteland of Siberia to find the assassin. As it was, however, Kluge had to try and remain inconspicuous and so it was best to send in someone with well honed espionage skills into the fray.

"I need to you to find someone for me. Find someone and bring them back to me alive."

"Alive? I'm hardly qualified for something like that." Kimblee answered through a frown.

"Consider it a challenge, then. I need the best for this job and you are the best." Kluge said, knowing that if he made the mission and issue of Kimblee's talent that the assassin wouldn't be able to resist it. That predatory glimmer flashed in the blackness of Kimblee's eyes and he smirked. Kluge smirked back.

Kimblee would take the job.

The Commander slid a large brown envelope across the polished surface of the desk towards the Hochroter Tod.

"There's a film crew leaving Berlin tomorrow morning. The director is a man named Fritz Lang. I want you to infiltrate the crew and find a woman. She's going by the name of Inga Utherlintz, but her real name is Winry. She's about five-foot-five, blond hair, large blue eyes, and she has several ear piercings in both ears. She's posing as Lang's secretary. I want you to find her and bring her back here. _Alive_."

Kimblee rolled his eyes before shaking his hand in a gesture that told Kluge to get on with the mission summary. Kluge gnashed his teeth together and made a shallow noise of displeasure before collecting his composure and proceeding with the plan.

"I also want you to look out for this man." Kluge took out a photograph from his desk and held it up for Kimblee to inspect. "His name is Edward Elric. He has golden hair, normally worn up in a ponytail, golden eyes and stands at five-foot-six-and-three-quarters. He has two prosthetic limbs, a right arm and left leg, but they are especially unusual. They are made of dense metal, have a complicated infrastructure, and are both as fully functional as flesh, blood and bone. You _must not_ kill him, Kimblee. Everyone else is simply collateral damage, but this man and woman _must_ stay alive."

"Two people alive?" Kimblee chuckled, his black eyes quickly absorbing the image of the man in the photograph and committing every detail to his memory.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Kluge drawled with an arrogant smirk. Kimblee just grinned.

"Elric also has a brother. I don't have a photograph or description of him, but I understand that there's a resemblance between the pair. If you see the brother, Alphonse, then it's likely that Edward or Winry will be close by."

"I can kill him?"

"If you like."

Kimblee chuckled.

"Five hundred thousand marks." he stated.

"Half that." Kluge replied, continuing to keep his mask of cool interest.

"Three hundred thousand and access to your artillery shed." Kimblee offered. "My grenade stock is dwindling."

"I'd heard you'd become obsessed with bombs." Kluge commented.

"A new hobby of mine. It's fascinating how a little gunpowder can mangle the human body in so many beautiful ways. A bomb is the truest masterpiece of war. It takes a patient and artful hand to craft the inner workings, an aesthetic eye to make the package pretty and compact, and a true savant's genius to find the perfect purpose and execution for such splendor."

Kluge said nothing as Kimblee spoke, the man looking as if he might orgasm at the very thought of his precious bombs.

"I've actually heard rumors about a new type of bomb. Apparently, it has the power to destroy a whole city. Wouldn't that be fascinating if such a device existed?" Kimblee asked with superior intent. His eyes narrowed as he studied Kluge for a reaction, but the stoic SS commander didn't betray anything.

His silence was really all the confirmation the talented Kimblee needed.

Leaning back in his chair, Kimblee craned his neck so that he had a lopsided view of the beautiful blond woman who had trekked the blizzards of Siberia to find him and bring him to the Fortress. She was a strong, hard, very attractive woman, and she wielded a gun with disciplined control.

He liked that.

Obviously, Kluge liked that too, for he considered the woman his right-hand officer and bodyguard. He had also instructed her to remain in the room while the meeting between commander and assassin took place.

"Hey, doll? Think you can get a car ready for me in the next hour? Looks like I'm going to Berlin."

Riza never answered Kimblee or even acknowledged his presence. Instead, she gave her commanding officer a wary, questioning glance and waited until Kluge gave a subtle affirmative nod before turning to leave the office.

"And make sure you fill it up with everything I'll need to make a few explosives." Kimblee added. "That is our agreement, isn't it, Roy?"

That same nod was all the answer Kimblee received.

"You know, if I wasn't dead, I might just return to the military. When did they start recruiting ass like that?"

Kimblee wasn't fazed when a pistol was pointed in his face only a few inches from the end of his long nose. Kluge held the gun with perfect poise, staring him down as if he was the lowest of plebeians, but Kimblee didn't budge. In fact, he grinned as if the whole situation were a bizarre practical joke.

Kluge wouldn't kill him.

He needed him too much.

"You will respect my officer, Kimblee. Remember, according to the official records, you're dead. I may have intervened in your death once, but if you make another comment like that again…or if you continue to look at my bodyguard like a salivating dog, I will not only see that you are killed, _I_ will be your executioner." Kluge said with dark promise.

Kimblee locked eyes with Kluge, black boring into black.

"Fool." Kimblee muttered, not caring if Kluge heard him.

The commander had gone and fallen in love. A simple fuck with a female comrade was all well and good, but to fall in love…and to fall in love with one of _those_…

"Do you understand?" Kluge asked bitterly.

"I want half of my three hundred thousand before I leave." Kimblee said as he took the file and rose from his chair. "I'll get you your woman, _alive_."

"I don't want any complications, Kimblee."

"You shouldn't worry so much, Roy, it'll give you wrinkles."

Kimblee left with a backwards wave to the SS commander and made his way out of the office and began to stroll along the stone corridors of the Fortress as easily as if he were taking a jaunt in the Versailles Gardens.

* * *

_Germany_

_3. Oct. 28_

***

"Eddie! Hold still!" Winry laughed as she wrapped the wriggling three year old in a fluffy white towel.

"Too excited!" he said happily as Winry began to pat him dry. "How far away is we going?"

"To a whole different country." Winry answered.

"That's far!"

Winry giggled at the boy's excitement and began to run the towel over his sodden hair.

The day they left for Freiburg had finally come. While everyone else was rather reluctant to take this particular trip, Eddie found the whole venture absolutely fascinating and had reduced to a human ball of energy, unwilling to stay still, or stop asking questions, or even sleep properly.

"Where's everyone else gone, Winnie? Is they already left?" Eddie asked.

"They're hiding." Winry answered, scrubbing behind the three year old's ears.

"Hiding? Like hide-and-seek?"

"Yep, just like hide-and-seek. They're the hiders and we're the seekers, so stay still so I can get you ready or we'll never find them." Winry answered, doing her best to keep the joviality in her voice.

Al, Noa, Ruth, Paz and Yafit had left the apartment the afternoon before. They had gone to the studio early so that Noa and the children could hide in the crate undetected and with no complications the following morning. Al, who would serve as a foreman and drive the truck that the special crate would be lifted on to had gone as well, not just to keep the others company, but to protect them, too.

They were his family, after all.

This had left Ed, Eddie and Winry alone in the apartment for the whole night. They ate a quiche and carrot soup for dinner. Afterwards, Winry had sat with Eddie for an hour with the automail hand that she had given him to play with, instructing him on the inner workings and skeletal structure of the piece while Ed had sat at his desk in his bedroom and went over the plan and all possible variables that could influence the outcome, for better or worse. Ed had seemed especially stressed and worried, his brow furrowing and his left foot tapping against the leg of his chair in anxious irritation. Not liking to see the man so agitated, Winry handed Ed a wooden sword and told him that he was a knight of old and his quest was to save Prince Eddie from the wrench-throwing Winry dragon.

They had laughed and played long into the night, listening to Das Rheingold on the wireless, reading nearly every tale in the Brother's Grimm collection, and even singing old lullabies half remembered from their childhoods in Resembool. All of their efforts were in an attempt to get Eddie to finally fall asleep, which he did well after midnight. Ed had stated that it was the lullaby Winry had sung that finally did it. The simple verses were often sung to Ed when he was a little boy by his mother and they always had the same calming effect.

Winry smiled as she recalled Ed's soft compliment and blushed when she also remembered that he had given her _that_ look before taking the slumbering Eddie to bed.

It had been a week since the night she and Edward bared their hearts to one another. Just seven days, and yet it felt as if the pair hadn't been apart for nearly seven years. They joked, and teased, and talked, and for the first time since they were teenagers Winry truly felt that Ed was being genuinely honest with her. The weight of the secrets that they had been keeping from each other was lifted like a filtering screen, clearing the air and allowing Ed and Winry to actually _see_ each other for the first time in years.

And what Winry had seen most of all in the last seven days was a searing, smoldering look that spoke of passion and heat and unleashed wantonness burning from the depths of Ed's expressive golden eyes.

He wanted her.

Winry had been fairly certain that Ed was sexually attracted to her, but the previous evening, when he had let her braid his hair again then thanked her, he had looked at her with such overpowering need that Winry had found herself leaning into him, lips puckered and eyes half closed as she waited for Ed to bridge the distance and kiss her, just like he had in the bunker.

But Ed didn't kiss her.

Instead, he yawned and feigned over-exaggerated tiredness as he began to make up the couch with blankets and pillows. He pretended as if the moment of charged sensuality had never happened, but when Winry flashed him a curiously hurtful look before going to bed, she spotted that ravenous gaze in his eyes again, and she realized that he was not hiding the fact that he was slowly perusing her body. Her skin had puckered and warmed, practically feeling Ed's eyes caressing her curves, brushing along her hips, squeezing her bottom, pinching her nipples, tangling in her hair…

Winry knew she was the one who had suggested she and Ed take their relationship slow, get to know each other again and see where their feelings took them. However, after one week Winry had finally understood that there was no point in waiting. It would never matter how many years had passed, Edward Elric would always be the same boy who walked her to school and held her hand during thunderstorms. That would never change, even if they did begin a romantic relationship, so what was the point in waiting? Hadn't she and Ed waited long enough? So what if there was a twinge of fear wrapped up in her love and desire for Edward, it was actually rather exhilarating. She had been his friend for so many years and now, she was finally ready to learn what it would be like to be Ed's girlfriend…his lover…

Yeah, a lover didn't sound so bad, despite her complete lack of skill in the area. But Ed would be gentle, she was sure, and passionate, especially when he looked at her like that…

She wished he would kiss her again.

"All dry." Eddie announced gladly, running his chubby fingers through his blond hair.

"You're going to need a haircut soon." Winry commented as she put the towel aside and grabbed the boy's shirt and trousers.

"Nope! I gonna grow it long like Daddy's." Eddie announced as he allowed Winry to help him dress, struggling to keep his balance as he lifted one foot into the legs of his trousers.

"Oh really?" Winry answered cheerfully.

"Yep. I gonna be brave like my Daddy, too, 'an fight monsters. When we go out, we gotta pretend you're my mommy to trick the monsters, right?"

"That's right." Winry answered as she deftly looped up the buttons on the boy's shirt.

She had discovered only one day ago that Fritz Lang, though a trusted comrade and valuable ally to the Elrics, was not one of the special few who had been informed of Edward's fatherhood. While Ed did trust Lang to help him ferry refugees across the boarder and smuggle all manner of food, supplies and weapons throughout the continent, he didn't trust that the director wouldn't sell him out if it meant saving his own neck. Ed and Al were fully prepared to take that risk, but neither would ever put Eddie in that position. And so, it was decided hastily that, rather than travel in that enclosed crate with the others where there was a slight possibility that something dangerous might happen, Eddie would travel with Ed and Winry in Lang's private car. He would wear a disguise and he would pose as Winry's son.

"Um, Winnie?" Eddie asked quietly, a worried look suddenly stretching across his once excited features. "Are you going to be my mommy?"

Winry froze and stared at the child with worried eyes.

"I'll be pretending to be your mommy. Your daddy and I explained the game to you last night." Winry reminded gently.

"But…but my real mommy? When we're done playing pretend, are you gonna be my real mommy?"

Winry choked back a strangled cry and Eddie blinked innocently and blushed when he realized that, perhaps, he had said something wrong.

"I just think it'd be OK if you was my mommy. If you wanna. I like playing with you and Daddy likes you, too, and we've been having fun, so I just thought…maybe – but just if you want! – that you could be my mommy."

Winry didn't know if she wanted to laugh, or cry, or if she should do anything. How did one answer such an innocent, but so very heavy, question?

She hugged Eddie close, her whole being warming when the child wrapped his little arms around her neck and squeezed affectionately. Over the last week, Winry had come to terms with the fact that if she wanted to be with Ed, it would mean that she also wanted to take on the role of mother in Eddie's life.

That didn't concern Winry. She got along great with children. She liked them, and enjoyed them, and did wish to have some of her own one day. In the end, the choice to become Eddie's stepmother was really no choice at all. She had already taken on such matronly tasks as bathing the boy, reading to him, tucking him in at night and checking for monsters under the bed. Really, to have a marriage license and adoption papers written up would only make the current arrangement legal.

Still, even though Winry believed she was prepared to take on the tasks of being Eddie's mother and Ed's wife, there was the little matter of how Ed felt about the whole situation.

"Winnie? Did I ask something wrong?" Eddie wondered as he released himself from the hug.

"No, of course not." Winry said as she moved to adjust the suspender straps on the child's pants. "I would like very much to be your mommy, Eddie, but I'll need your daddy's help first."

"What's Daddy got to do?" Eddie asked, smiling broadly and looking as if he might start jumping up and down.

"Your daddy has to ask me a question." Winry stated simply.

"What kinda question?"

"A very important kind of question. One that only he knows. And when he asks me that question, I'll say 'yes', and then I can be your mommy."

"That's it?" Eddie asked incredulously.

"That's it." Winry answered, reaching over to the tub ledge and grabbing the dark black wig, colored lenses and scarf. Eddie fussed while Winry struggled to make the wig fit perfectly. There would be no point in having the boy wearing a disguise if it looked fake. The tresses on the wig were made from real human hair, and they were fairly long so Winry pulled them back into a puny ponytail.

"It itches." the three year old complained. "Why do I gotta wear this?"

"Because your Daddy and I don't want the monsters to see you." Winry said severely. "It's very important that you're safe from the monsters, so we need to put you in this costume and you are to stay with either me or your daddy."

She tied the scarf around Eddie's neck and chin, and the colored glasses obscured the golden hue of the orbs which were a dead give-away that he was the child of Edward Elric. Winry was glad it was a very chilly day and so she wouldn't have to make excuses to Mr. Lang about why Eddie was covered up.

"There, all done. The monsters will never find you." Winry announced. "Stop scratching."

"Itchy!" Eddie whined. Winry rolled her eyes and ushered the boy out of the bathroom.

"Hurry and go get your luggage." Winry ordered. "Our ride will be coming soon. And stop scratching!"

"But I'm itchy!" Eddie bellowed as he moved to follow Winry's orders, disappearing into the room he shared with is father to collect the leather satchel that held all he would need for the trip.

Winry shook her head at the boy's defiance, once again reminded of how much of Ed there was in Eddie. Sighing, the twenty-three year old stared at her packed suitcase, small traveling case and toolkit, all of which were resting by the door, and began to go over a mental checklist.

'_A sweater, skirts, a pair of Ed's pants, socks, stockings, those horrible high heels, comb, toothbrush, soap and cologne, my hair clips, snacks, paper and coloring pencils in the traveling case for Eddie, my toolbox, my wrench…_'

Winry nodded to herself, assured that she had taken everything that was necessary. She then began to go over herself, noting that the seams in her stockings were straight, that her skirt wasn't on crooked, that her blouse was neatly tucked in and her vest buttoned up properly, the bow around her neck was perfectly coiffed, and her hair was pulled up and back into a pretty but functional bun.

There was one other thing that Winry took notice of in her apparel. Bringing her right hand over to rest upon her heart, Winry felt the solid, reassuring weight of Luther Austerlitz's silver pocket watch.

Ed had entrusted her with the only memento she had left of the man who had saved her, and Winry wasn't going to allow Luther's actions to be in vain. She had found Ed and Al, had survived on this side of the Gate and had escaped capture from Commander Kluge. Now, she was aiding Ed in his underground organization, just as Luther had before his death. Winry wore the watch with pride, its message carved into her memory.

Don't forget.

"Got everything you need?"

Winry turned to look at Ed and smiled.

"I think so." she answered. "Eddie's just getting his things and then we can go. You've picked an interesting day to leave, by the way." Winry's eyes darted towards the calendar hanging on the wall near the door. Ed looked, his golden eyes glancing at the date numbers which were circled in red ink, and smirked.

"A coincidence." he admitted. "Do you know why I carved that date into my watch?"

"You told me once. To remind you to keep moving forward since on that day you'd made sure you have nothing to go back to." Winry answered sadly.

"That was part of it." Ed confessed quietly. "We never had anything to go back to because we had sacrificed it in order to fix what we had broken. But, we never would have had to leave if I hadn't insisted on trying to bring Mom back. If I had just learned to accept her death, if I wasn't so fucking stubborn about bringing her back or learning human transmutation…if I was a better alchemist and had been able to bring more than Al's soul back from the Gate, maybe I wouldn't have had to give up my home and my family. The message reminded me of what I had lost because of my thoughtlessness. It hurt to leave, it was hard to walk away from you and Granny, but we had to make that sacrifice and I've lived with that burden for the last twelve years. So the reason I carved 'don't forget' into the watch was to always remind myself that my home was the exchange that had to be made if Al and I were ever going to get our bodies back. Don't forget _home_."

"And the second date? The one in Luther's watch." Winry asked, hiccoughing as she tried to stifle her tears.

"Same thing, really. Don't forget you've left everything behind, your whole world and your family and friends. In order to save my home I had to sacrifice my place in it. My dad once told me that the things I had given up, the life I might have had and the home I was separated from, was the equivalent exchange that Truth demanded. I made these choices, Win, and I've lived with them, but sometimes you need something tangible – something you can hold on to – to remind you of why your life is the way it is."

"Oh, Ed." Winry sniffed, wiping a few tears from her eyes. It was silly that something from so long ago still made her heart quake with unhappy memories. She hated being sad, and she knew Ed hated to see her cry, the grimace on his face said as much.

"Don't cry." he pleaded. "It's nothing to get sad about and…well, I've been pretty happy for the last week. The happiest I've been in a long time."

Winry snorted through her sniffles and smiled which made Ed beam. She took a moment to regain her composure then moved to reach for her coat, but Ed was quicker, snatching the rusty colored wool overcoat from the hook by the door and holding it open in his hands for Winry to put on easily. Still getting used to Ed being polite and almost gentlemanly, Winry moved to place her arms in the sleeves of the coat, hissing when her left arm cramped.

"How's the arm? Still bothering you?" Ed asked, concerned.

"It's fine, just stiff and a little achy. That's normal."

Due to the mild infection that had caught in the wound while Winry had been ill, they had been unable to remove the stitches from the bullet graze inflicted by one of Kluge's men until the morning before. Ed had been the one who dutifully removed the hard threads from Winry's flesh, being as gentle as he could and even kissing the scar when it was all over.

Slowly managing to get her left arm in the sleeve of her coat, Winry then placed her right arm into the wooly mass and turned. She rolled her eyes when Ed began to do up the buttons and nearly complained, but her words died when he was suddenly standing very close to her, his breath tickling her brow as he raised his hands to adjust her collar.

Winry looked deeply into Ed's eyes and saw him giving her that hungry look again. She didn't cower under his gaze and instead tried to mirror that ravenous sentiment, hoping he could see how ready she was for him to take her.

She wanted him to kiss her.

And unlike the night before, Ed did not turn away.

Gripping the lapels of her collar, Ed pulled Winry flush against his warm, solid body, lowered his head and took her lips in his. She was ready for him and met Ed half way, her mouth moist and puckered.

It was a simple kiss at first, a happy meeting of the lips that was chaste and sweet and everything a sixteen year old would ever dream the perfect kiss to be. But Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell were no longer silly teenagers who could be satisfied with such a pleasant, innocent meeting of the lips.

Winry moved first, her hands coming up to caress Ed's neck and jaw, working their way around his ears, through his long, disheveled bangs and finally finding his braid, lightly playing with it as Ed tilted his head to make the kiss harder. His hands slunk down her body, careful to avoid her breasts but eager to firmly stroke her sides then squeeze her hips and pull her even closer against him before wrapping tightly around her waist.

Winry moaned against Ed's mouth, thrilling at the feel of his body so close to hers. Through the thick layers of their clothes, Winry was unable to feel very much of Ed save for the wonderful, exciting heat that was literally shooting off of him to wrap around her like alchemic energy. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and her nipples pulled painfully as she wished he would touch them.

Without even realizing she had done it, Winry thrust her hips against Ed's crotch, making the young man groan from the back of his throat as he finally dared to nip at her bottom lip, encouraging her to open her mouth just the slightest bit before brushing his tongue along the edge of her lips and retreating.

He pulled away slowly and chuckled when Winry followed him blinding for a moment. With her eyes still closed, Ed admired the woman in his arms, smirking with masculine satisfaction as he took in the swollen cherry color of her mouth, the rosy tint of her cheeks, and especially of the dark cornflower colored passion he spied in her eyes when she finally opened them. The needy whine she exhaled very nearly made him kiss her again, but he restrained himself.

He had planned this moment out all night after Winry had leaned into him with a mouth ready for kissing. He was determined to get some answers out of the infuriating woman, but had decided that softening her up with a fiery kiss was the best way to proceed.

So far, everything was working out perfectly. Now, it was time to execute the second part of his plan.

Allowing Winry a moment to catch her breath, Ed ran his automail arm up her back, the tips of his cool metal fingers grazing her neck.

Winry purred like a kitten under his touch which made Ed's cock twitch and demand to be freed from such constricting trousers, but with every last fiber of his stubborn, bull-headed determination, Ed refused his body release and focused on the little speech he had planed out in the early hours of the morning.

"Your birthday is January 7th. Your favorite color is green, but almost everyone thinks that it's pink. You hate thunderstorms. You threw up at your very first automail surgery which was on Den after she got her leg mangled in a hunter's trap. You're afraid of spiders. Your favorite season is winter because you think the snow makes everything sparkle. Your favorite ratchet is a 6-point because of its grip and reliability. You can fix anything with a motor, beat up anyone bigger than you, are not a morning person, take cream in your coffee, hate stockings and high heels, you're brave and fearless and fucking terrifying when you're made at me…" Ed took a breath and leaned in close so that his brow was softly nuzzling against Winry's. "You taste like mint. You're a great kisser. You love my automail, especially when I do this." Ed once again tickled the nape of her neck and Winry squirmed pleasantly. "You drive me fucking crazy and you know it."

"Ed…"

"I know you said we should get to know each other again after being apart for so long, but Win, all of the important stuff hasn't changed. I still know _you_. So…do we still have to wait?"

Winry sighed and offered Ed a soft, heart-warming smile of endearment.

"Your birthday is December 18th. Your favorite color is red but when you were six it was yellow because you had a crush on Bernadette Smith and that was her favorite color. You hate any kind of weather that keeps you stuck in one place for too long. You were drawing transmutation circles even before you could read. You're just as sacred of spiders as I am. You hate winter and always have. Your favorite shape is the circle because of its purpose in alchemy. You've always had an attitude problem, you're always looking for a fight, you help people, and you try very hard to be a good big brother to Al and a father to Eddie and a provider for everyone." Winry kissed Ed's chin and moved out of his embrace to sling her toolbox and travel bag over her shoulders. "You like it when I play with your hair, you snore, you kiss me like you think I might disappear and you're just as tired of waiting as I am."

"You really mean that?" Ed asked hopefully, his smile toothy and pleased.

"I mean it." Winry said simply.

The pair grinned at one another, basking in the completeness of their decision. Whatever they might be, boyfriend and girlfriend, partners, or lovers, Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell were equals and they were going to be with each other.

For the first time in years both adults, lifelong friends, doctor and patient, mechanic and client, sweethearts that were never realized, soul mates that were separated by time and space and by some strange whim of Fate reunited, were together and happy.

"Gnugh!"

Both adults tore their gazes away from one another and spotted little Eddie scuffling out of the bedroom, dragging his luggage heavily behind him. His face was flushed and he puffed as he attempted to pull his bag towards the front door.

"Let me help, Eddie." Ed said, moving to take the bag from his child. Petulantly, Eddie dodged his father's hand, showing the man his back as he guarded the leather luggage.

"No!" the three year old insisted. "I'm a big boy. I carry it." Eddie announced.

"But isn't it heavy?" Ed asked, unable to help his amusement as he observed his child's bullheaded determination. The attitude most certainly came from him, but the way Eddie pouted and stared at the luggage as if he could coax it into cooperation with a single look gave Ed the nostalgic feeling of seeing Manka. His wife had often given him that same moping look when she was trying to convince him to bend to her will.

"Alright, let's get going." Winry announced, grabbing her own luggage and holding open the door for the others to walk through. They waited patiently for Eddie to struggle past them before Ed locked the door and the trio made their way down the seven flights of stairs. Ed and Winry walked behind Eddie, carefully watching the boy to be sure he didn't trip in his sluggish decent. It was almost painful to watch the three year old as he desperately tried to show his maturity by carting a suitcase that was obviously far too big and weighty for his small body.

Ed began to silently grumble, his growing anxiousness not completely caused by his child's stubborn exertion.

He hadn't heard from Hughes in the last five days, not since the day his friend had informed him of Kluge's desperate plans to change his shipment delivery date and the mysterious disappearance of Riza Eaglewing. There had been no word on the new train number or departure time of the shipment from Freiburg, only that the date of conveyance had been changed from the fourth of October to the third. Originally, the plan had been to ferry the family across the boarder on October 4th following the artillery shipment train. Now, however, Ed was no longer certain which train Kluge's weapons were stored on, and so, he was resigned to the fact that he would not be able to discover where Kluge's storehouse for the weapons was or what the SS commander intended to do with them. He was angry and frustrated that, once again, Commander Dickhole had managed to slip past him.

"Are you alright?" Winry whispered.

Ed turned to look at Winry and realized that he had been scowling as cross thoughts flitted through his mind and forced himself not to blush. He shouldn't be all that upset over his spoiled plans. After all, he had been keeping that information from Winry and was aware that if she had ever learned of his secret it would be the end of everything between them. Now, there was no secret to be kept and Ed could continue to pursue his relationship with Winry without the uncomfortable chain of guilt.

He could be free.

"Alright, that's enough." Ed sighed, flashing Winry a reassuring grin before reaching down to scoop Eddie up into his arms.

"No! Daddy, no! Daddy! I said no help. I gonna carry the bag!" Eddie hollered as he was upending and held tightly in Ed's arms.

"I'm not carrying the bag, I'm carrying you." Ed answered cheekily, chuckling over the protests of his son.

The trio made it to the lobby of the apartment building rather quickly and when they walked outside they discovered a pristine pewter and nickel colored Lincoln Coupe Roadster waiting for them. The shine from the glossy cougar head ornament nearly blinded Ed as he moved towards the automobile.

"Good morning!" Lang greeted from the back seat.

"God dammit, Lang! Don't you know how to be subtle?" Ed grumbled as he held the door open for Winry and Eddie before moving to put their luggage in the trunk. The film director chuckled. Ed rolled his eyes and settled himself in the front passenger's seat beside Lang's private driver.

"Well, who do we have here?" Lang said sweetly, smiling down at Eddie who was sandwiched between the older man and Winry. Eddie shied away from Lang and buried his face into Winry's side. She soothingly began to stroke the top of Eddie's head and hugged him to her, all the while noting the anxious look Ed was shooting at them from the front seat.

"Don't mind him, Mr. Lang. He's just shy." Winry said.

"Is he yours?"

"Yes." Winry answered warmly, a little surprised with how easily the admission came. She looked down at the three year old and he returned her stare, his golden eyes, masked by the emerald lenses, clearly shining with affection.

"Let's go over the schedule, Lang." Ed said, interrupting the director's curiosity about Eddie and Winry.

"Oh, Edward, all business all the time. You'd better learn to slow down and appreciate the fine things right under your nose or else they might pass you by."

"Don't get fucking philosophical on me Lang, just because you were too lazy to do your job." Ed griped.

"Tsk, tsk, Edward. Such language in front of a child and his mother."

Ed didn't bother replying, knowing full well that Eddie was giggling and Winry was shaking her head. He crossed his arms and glared through the windshield as the car moved through the streets of Berlin.

"Oh! What's that?" Eddie asked, leaning over Winry to point out the window at the grand structure known as the Charlottenburg Palace. "Can we go there?"

"Someday." Winry soothed as she pulled the child back. "I promise to take you there someday."

The rest of the ride was traveled in relative silence with Lang making the odd comment to his passengers and even showing Eddie some card tricks before they pulled up before the warehouse that served as Lang's studio.

"I'm just going to make sure that we're ready to go." Ed announced, getting out of the automobile. "Wait here for me."

"Of course we will, Edward. Where else would we go?" Lang teased as he proceeded to demonstrate to Eddie the art of pulling a coin out of one's ear. "Young lady," he said giving Winry a rueful stare, "I'm not sure how you put up with him. Always so serious."

Winry smiled and turned to watch as Ed walked towards a series of trucks that were being loaded with film equipment. "You know, some days, I'm not too sure how I put up with him either."

* * *

Al gave the large crate that carried Noa and the children an affectionate pat as he finished securing it to the back of the truck.

"Mr. Heidrick." a teenager called, rushing up to Al with an armful of cables. "These are for the microphones but I can't find the truck with all of our sound equipment."

"It's the farthest one at the end of the drive." Al said, pointing in the direction the boy had to go.

"Thank you." he nodded and rushed away.

"Mr. Heidrick!" a burly man said. "Where should be put the actors' trunks?"

"There's some room on the number four prop truck and if everything doesn't fit tell Mr. Dashelle that we'll have to strap some on the top of his automobile."

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Heidrick, Miss Constance left her wig back at her apartment…"

"Mr. Heidrick, do you think we should bring an extra tripod…"

"Mr. Heidrick, we're missing flashbulbs…"

Al answered the myriad of questions with grace and authority, giving everyone the impression that he was a well seasoned foreman, even for a man of such a young age. Going over the checklist Lang had given him the night before, Al noted that all of his required tasks were complete, the trucks were loaded and the actors were prepared to leave, now all that was left was to get confirmation from his brother.

"Hey, Al." Ed said casually as he sauntered up beside him. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, everyone's ready to go." Al said, giving the large crate in the truck behind him a meaningful look. Ed grinned and knocked lightly on the crate.

"It's Ed. We'll be leaving soon. Don't worry, guys, it'll be fine."

A chorus of hushed mumbles came from inside of the crate and Ed gave the rough wood a few soothing strokes.

"Are Winry and Eddie with Mr. Lang?" Al asked.

"Yeah, I gotta get back to them. I don't like leaving Eddie or her alone for long."

"Have you told Winry about the weapons?"

"No, Al, I…"

"Because you should." Al insisted. "She's been really happy with you this last week and told me that you promised not to keep secrets from her anymore. I don't know what will happen when she finds out about this, Ed, and I hate that you're putting me in the middle. I don't like to lie to Winry!"

"Well you're not lying because we're not going looking for the fucking weapons!" Ed hissed. "Hughes hasn't called me to tell me about the train Kluge's arranged to take his stock hold into Paris today. For all I know, they're already gone, so forget it, there's nothing to look for."

"Good." Al stated softly, not looking at his brother. "That's really good, Ed."

The elder Elric snorted.

"Lang's automobile will be leading the convoy, so we won't be able to talk until we get to Freiburg."

"Don't worry, Brother. Everything will be fine." Al assured, giving his sibling a few hard, comforting raps on the shoulder. "Go back to them."

Ed nodded and gave Al a quick squeeze around the neck before going back to Lang's Lincoln Coupe Roadster. Al watched his brother leave, a resigned smile on his face before going over his checklist one final time.

"Mr. Heidrick?"

Al looked up and spotted someone carrying a large wooden box marked 'BULBS' and sighed.

"Those are the missing flashbulbs, I presume." Al said. He supposed the person carrying the crate nodded as he was unable to see the workman properly since the box was covering his face. "Well, there should still be some room on truck six."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Al said, returning his focus to his checklist. He never noticed that the man with the box of flashbulbs grinned predatorily, surveying him with the dark narrowed eyes of a hunter.

Kimblee nearly cackled as he walked away from the foreman, Heidrick, and moved towards truck six. He had searched the faces of all the film crew since his arrival at the warehouse two hours earlier, hoping to find Edward Elric or the Winry woman that Kluge was after. Instead, he had found Heidrick, a man who was still just a boy of seventeen, with dark whiskey colored eyes and cropped hazel colored hair. He had a similar chin, nose and mouth to Edward Elric, if Kimblee's memory was accurate, and it was highly suspicious to find a youth running a crew of such magnitude and importance.

Kimblee sneered.

Part of the reason that Kimblee was the most feared killer in Germany (and thus, the best) was greatly due to his keen sense of intuition. He had well honed skills, a sixth sense, and an almost magnetic instinct when it came to observing his targets. Kimblee did not question his hunch that Heidrick was actually Alphonse Elric, the younger brother of Kluge's enemy. He would keep an eye on this boy, follow him into Freiburg, and if he was indeed Alphonse Elric, he would undoubtedly lead him to the Winry that Kluge was paying him to capture.

Tossing aside the box of bulbs, Kimblee jumped into the back of truck six just as it began to drive off. It was going to be a long journey, one that would take the entire day, and so, to pass the time, Kimblee began to fiddle with some of the equipment he found in the back of the truck, taking apart wires and cables as his keenly demented mind began to construct a rather ingenious cylindrical device that would slip perfectly into the hollow cave of a pipe.

* * *

It was nearing ten o'clock at night when the caravan of film crew, actors, workmen and the great director Fritz Lang arrived at their hotel in Freiburg. Nearly everyone was exhausted from the long day of travel, and the promise of a cushy bed and hot food was all the incentive needed to unpack quickly. Alphonse parked his truck in a far corner of the parking lot and was careful to make sure that he was secluded and properly shaded by darkness before releasing Noa, Ruth, Yafit and Paz from the crate. He praised the three children for their good behavior during the long journey and gave his wife their hotel room key so that they could settle and stretch their bodies while he went to a café across the road to collect dinner.

Noa quickly ushered the children inside of their ground level room, relieved to finally breathe fresh night air. She stretched her sore muscles and watched Yafit leap onto one of the twin beds and jump happily, encouraging Paz and Ruth to join her.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" a muffled female voice called from outside the door. The children immediately fell silent and Noa cautiously made her way towards the door and peeked through the peephole.

"It's Miss Winry and Eddie." Noa said through an exhale of relief as she unlocked the door and welcomed her guests inside. Eddie rushed forward into the room and leaped onto the bed, flinging off his dark wig and glasses and cackling triumphantly as he crowed.

"I found you! I win! Found you, found you!" the three year old chirped as he and Yafit began to jump up and down. Ruth and Paz joined the pair and they began to have leaping contests while Noa and Winry sat on the opposite bed and spoke in quiet tones.

"Are you alright?" Winry asked as she fiddled with Eddie's wig.

"Fine. It was a very long ride and I'm glad it's over." Noa confessed, her brown eyes locked on the closed door, focusing on it intently.

"Noa? What's wrong?"

"I just have a bad feeling." Noa confessed, rubbing her palms along her belly as if to soothe an inner ache. "I've had it since this morning before we left Berlin. And my senses feel as if they're on fire. All I can smell is smoke."

"Smoke?" Winry echoed.

"It's given me a headache." Noa said, raising a hand to rub at her temples.

"Maybe…maybe you've just been cooped up for too long. The air and some food might help." Winry suggested.

"Maybe." Noa conceded, not wanting to project her anxiousness onto the woman beside her. It wouldn't do to have negative feelings during these last precious days with the children. Perhaps she really was just exhausted and hungry…but still, that acrid stench of burning gasoline, the unbearable heat of floating cinders burning against her flesh and the black smoke stinging her eyes was so strong. Her powers had never led her astray before and the Roma woman knew deep down in the dark depths of her heart that she was being warned about something, but of what she didn't know and it was that unknowing that was making her stomach churn.

"Hello?"

Once again, all in the room fell silent when a knock and a disembodied voice came from behind the closed door. This time, Winry looked through the peephole and sighed through a smile as she moved to unlock the door.

Ed waltzed into the room and held his arms open wide for all four children to race into his embrace. Yafit, Paz and Ruth told him in unison of their time in the crate and Ed tried to keep up, learning that Ruth had complained and slept most of the trip, Paz had read aloud and Yafit had sung songs and made paper cut-out puppets to reenact fairy tales.

"Where's Al?" he asked when the children had finished describing their adventures in the crate.

"Getting us all dinner." Noa answered.

"Great. I'm starving." Ed said. "Food and sleep. That sounds good."

"Hungry." Eddie agreed.

"Winry, do you want to change? I brought your luggage to our room."

"Our room?" Winry asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"We're just next door." Ed answered, tilting his head towards the left and taking the key out of his pocket.

"I would love to get out of these stockings." Winry admitted. "Are you coming, Eddie?"

"Can I play till Uncle Al gets back?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure, buddy." Ed answered easily. "Don't be a brat for your Auntie Noa."

"I not a brat!" Eddie replied confidently, flashing his aunt a charming smile just as his father and Winry left the room.

Ed and Winry chuckled, only stifling their laughter as they entered their hotel room. Ed turned on a desk lamp and Winry sat at the edge of one of the beds and proceeded to remove her coat, neck scarf, vest and shoes.

"So Ed, I notice we're bunking together." Winry stated casually.

"Yeah."

"Well, won't this give the rest of the crew and Mr. Lang the wrong impression?"

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for." Ed stated, smiling roguishly, removing his jacket, shoes and tie.

"Ed!" Winry cried, pulling her hair out of its constricting bun. "We're pretending Eddie is my son. Everyone here thinks I'm an unwed mother and now I'm sharing a room with the equally unwed assistant director. They're all going to think I'm some sort of loose woman."

"Like I said, that's what I'm hoping for." Ed stated plainly. "Did you see how some of those work hands were looking at you when we got here?"

"No, I was too busy babysitting you." Winry retorted. "Is that why hit that man in the gut? Because he was looking at me?"

"No!" Ed snapped. "I hit him because he bet his buddy twenty marks that he was going to get under your skirt tonight."

Winry blushed appropriately at Ed's words and her indignant look calmed some of his ire. He sighed and sat beside her on the bed.

"You know I wouldn't…"

"It's not that." Ed admitted, cutting Winry off. "I know you wouldn't give a creep like that a second glance, but I don't want him or anyone else on this crew to think they stand a chance with you. So what if they gossip that Lang's secretary is fucking the assistant director? At least it lets them know to keep their hands off."

"My hero." Winry snorted.

"What?"

"You couldn't have found another way to let them know I'm not available?"

"What does it even matter, Winry? You're never gonna see these assholes again."

"I care!"

"Bullshit, woman! You're just mad that everyone's gonna think you're easy and that I'm a lucky bastard to have you to myself."

Winry huffed and fell back onto the bed, turning away from Edward and crossing her arms over her chest. She felt the bed shift as Ed laid down beside her. She turned to peek at him over her shoulder and discovered him staring down at her, his chin propped up under the heel of his palm, his braid loose and unkempt, his lips moist and curved into an alluring grin and his eyes giving her that damn _look_.

She felt herself blush as she moved to rest on her back and look up at Ed, the air around them charged with a frighteningly powerful energy that left her feeling powerless under his hot golden stare. Her whole body became sensitive to everything about him, how close he was, how warm he was, how wonderfully handsome he was and how sensually he was staring at her, delightfully taking his time as his eyes spoke of every fantasy he wished to fulfill with her.

"Ed…"

He kissed her then, saving her the embarrassing task of asking him to do something about the rush of prickling sexual need that was swelling within her body. Ed kissed Winry hard and long, taking advantage of the fact that they were alone and unlikely to be interrupted. There was no teasing flick of his tongue this time, merely a masculine confidence and demand that she open her mouth to him and let him drink from her all that she had to give. Winry caressed Ed's tongue with ardent fervor, her arms coming up to grip the back of his head and force him closer.

Breaking away from her lips with a resounding smack, Ed moved to kiss up Winry's jaw line before he discovered her ear. He tugged on the lobe gently, mindful of her earrings, his hot breath cuddling the shell of her ear.

Winry was thrilled and terrified at the way she was feeling as Ed moved his lips to begin a blazing trail of kisses up and down the column of her neck. She had never felt this way before. The collecting heat low in her belly, the aching pulse that made her want to cry out, the stifling constriction of her clothing and his were things she had never been inspired to before. It was as if Ed was a phantom possessing her body, taking her into a place of light and dark, bringing her higher into the atmosphere where the air was so thin she felt as if she would simply float away.

"What are you doing to me?" she gasped as her fingers sought solace against the damp nape of his neck.

"I'm just doing what Lang told me to." Ed answered, kissing her chin. "I'm appreciating the fine things right under my nose." He kissed her languidly, sucking lightly on her bottom lip before pulling away. "Want to see how good I am at showing my appreciation?"

Winry forced his head back down to hers so that she could kiss him ravenously. Copying his actions, Winry pressed hard wet kisses along Ed's neck before latching on to one of his earlobes and sucking mercilessly, making the man in her arms groan into her shoulder as his hands roamed over her body. He untucked her blouse easily and let his fingers wander along her exposed skin. Winry sighed and moved to take Ed's hands in hers, pulling first his flesh one then his automail one up to her face. Ed gulped heavily and watched transfixed as Winry removed his white gloves with her teeth before placing a light peck into the centre of each palm.

Ed's body strained against his control as he watched Winry tease him and he immediately decided that payback was only fair. With his now bare hands, Ed didn't allow Winry the opportunity to protest or question as he undid the first few buttons of her blouse, exposing the flushed skin of her upper chest and unveiling her heaving breasts, concealed alluringly in a cotton brazier. He pulled away from her so that he could admire her body, watching with a scientist's curiosity and a man's desire as the globes rose and fell in a rapid crescendo. He lowered his lips to kiss Winry's exposed cleavage, chuckled at her innocent squeak of delight, and then returned his seeking lips to hers and proceeded to sufficiently distract her as his left hand caressed its way up higher and higher on her waist until he was cupping a lush, supple breast in his palm. He felt Winry's nails dig into his shoulders, but she didn't stiffen under his touch nor did she pull her mouth away from his and demand that he let her go.

Ed smiled into his kiss as he squeezed Winry's breast, his mind wondering at how soft it was, noting that Winry mewled delightedly when he added just a touch more pressure to the ends of his fingertips as he caressed her, and how he could feel her nipple hardening into a tiny pebble against his palm. When he released her mouth so that he could pull her brazier straps aside and kiss her shoulders, Ed wanted to roar like a wild beast when he heard the noises Winry made. The way she gasped his name and purred warmly, then nearly cried with need as she moaned into the room left him hard and almost mindless.

His cock pulsed with pressure, demanding Ed's urgent attention. He felt Winry snake a hand to rest on his left wrist, holding his hand to her breast in encouragement as her free one proceeded to undo several of his shirt buttons before pushing the material aside so that she could admire his bronzed, muscular physique. She flashed him a bold look before leaning up to kiss one dark hardened nipple softly.

Ed snapped.

Any semblance of control he might have had fled into the air like a wisp of taper smoke. He pulled Winry into his arms, crushed her against his body and let himself fall fully on top of her. Instinct alone guided Winry's legs to open and cradle Ed against the juncture of her thighs and through the layers of clothes that separated them, Winry felt Ed hot and hard against her.

She froze.

Ed didn't move, his mind having gone blank at finally feeling himself nestled snuggly on Winry, his senses blinding white with ferocity as his cock simply sat between her legs. It made Ed wonder what would happen when there were no clothes impeding their skin and he worried momentarily that if he was on the verge of an orgasm before they had even done anything that he might spend himself too quickly when they were finally in the throes of making love.

He wouldn't let that happen, though. He would find a way to keep himself distracted, even if that meant having to picture Colonel Shithead in a bathing suit, so that he could make the experience last for several long hours. He would show Winry just how good of a lover he was and make her forget all about her nurse and her soldier.

It would be perfect.

Ed's mind soon returned to him and he realized that Winry had gone stiff beneath him, her hands having fallen to her sides, her legs unyielding in their bent position, and her face tight with uncertainty as he looked down at her.

"Win?" Ed asked, gulping for air as he stroked her hair. "If you don't want…"

"I do." she said quietly, looking up at him with shimmering blue eyes. "I do, I just…just don't be mad if I'm not very good." she pleaded.

"Fuck, Winry." Ed groaned, kissing her brow and taking her left hand in his automail one. "You'll be perfect." he stated, smiling at her with the same confidence he flashed whenever she worked on his automail.

Winry smiled beautifully and kissed Ed on the mouth, a sweet lingering kiss of lazy mornings in bed and nights of passion and little sleep. Ed returned her kiss and let his full weight fall on her, his flesh hand reaching back to tickle the underside of her right knee.

"Now, you were saying something before about wanting to get out of these stockings, right?" Ed teased, his fingers opening up around her thigh and rising higher and higher until…

"Brother!" Al screamed as he barged into the room, Noa close behind him and looking sickly pale. "We have to leave right now! Winry's in danger!"

* * *

_Dun dun dun!!!!!_

_So, how many people, besides Ed, want to thrash Al right about now? The little twerp doesn't know when he's not welcome, but then again, if Ed didn't want to be interrupted he should have locked the door. Guess he was too distracted by other things._

_Anyway, as I have promised, this is the beginning of some plot and action that will run its course over the next couple of chapters. Once again, this chapter ended up being way longer than I had originally intended, but almost everything in here was necessary, and if it doesn't seem like it, well, it will be later on. _

_Kimblee was great fun to write and his back-story was something I pondered over for several days before I was happy with the events of his past. You see, I really like the charismatic Kimblee of the manga but I also felt I needed to draw on some of the very dark aspects that were made more prominent in the amine Kimblee, including his hunter-like personality. By the way, incase anyone is wondering Justizvollzugsanstalt literally translates into an institution for the execution of justice and __Stadelheim is a prison south of Munich. Also, __Hochroter Tod translates to Crimson Death. Once again, everything harkens to the connection between Amestris and Earth. _

_So, I hope everyone enjoyed and I know you're all just dying to know what's going to happen next, so I promise to hurry as fast as I can and get this next chapter completed. _

_Please leave a review and let me know what you think of this latest chapter. No flames, please and thank you!_

_Hugs and my deepest most appreciative regards,_

**Giant Nickel**


	16. The Chase

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I give all that credit to the gloriously imaginative Hiromu Arakawa_

**A/N:**_ Sorry it's taken so long to get this next chapter up. I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted, but July was my month to just chill and enjoy my summer (even though it's done nothing much but rain every day). However, I come back to the fanfiction world with a slew of ideas and an iron determination to finish _Don't Forget_ in the next few months. And now onto the action! Yes, this chapter contains a great deal of suspense and thrills and puts our favorite characters into all sorts of chaos. Kimblee, of course, is maniacal, but he may surprise some of you in this chapter. But then again, what makes Kimblee such a great character is that he's always full of surprises._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**The Chase**

_Germany_

_3. Oct. 28_

***

"We have to get the kids and leave right now!"

"What the fuck, Al?!" Ed roared, having not heard his brother's desperate warning, too preoccupied with the fact that he had been caught making-out with Winry. He blushed scarlet at the thought that if Al and Noa had barged in just a few minutes later…

"There's no time to be embarrassed, Ed, we have to go!" Al urged in his irksome logical way, shutting the door behind him and supporting Noa as he marched towards the bed.

"What's happened?" Winry asked in a high, panicked voice as she deftly struggled to do up her blouse. Noa was visibly quaking and the healthy pallor of her skin had become chalky. The Roma woman looked as if she was going to be ill. "Sit down." Winry pressed, soon forgetting the compromising position she had been in only moments ago. The fact that she had very nearly made love to Edward wasn't as important as the terrified state of Noa and Alphonse.

Ed was still cursing under her breath as he hurriedly straightened out his clothes, fixing his hair and taking a few deep, meditative breaths in an attempt to fight off his erection before even endeavoring to speak in a calm, collective way to his family.

"Noa? Are you alright?" Winry asked, coming up behind the shaken woman and gripping her shoulders. Noa was sagging pathetically on the bed, her hands holding her husband's as if they were a lone chain to reality keeping her from fragmenting into a million pieces.

"You're in danger, Winry. You most of all. We need to leave, as soon as possible. Tonight!" Noa declared.

"Tell us what happened." Winry pressed. Noa gulped at the air as if she was drinking water, making Winry worry that the woman would faint. "Al?"

Looking up at the seventeen year old, Winry knew that the danger Noa was speaking of had to be serious, for Alphonse Elric's face was as severe and frightening as one of those horrid gargoyles his brother was so fond of. Al was usually so pleasant and content that to see his whiskey colored eyes turn hard and ruddy was a great shock to the mechanic.

"I was going to help Alphonse carry the food." Noa began, her voice shaking, her fingers gripping Al's hand so tight that her knuckles cracked and turned pale.

Ed turned to look at his sister-in-law, his own demeanor having gone serious at the tremble in Noa's voice.

"Alphonse had left to get all of us dinner from the restaurant across the street and I thought he might need some help carrying everything. I told the children to keep the door locked and not to open it until they heard my voice say the special word. So I left the room and made my way towards the café…

* * *

_Noa trod carefully through the throngs of workmen and film crew. She could feel most of the men leering at her, some with undisguised lustful curiosity and others with vehement disgust. She held her left hand, clenched into a fist, over her heart, hoping that the glow from the streetlights and hotel would glimmer off of her simple wedding band and urge these men to keep their distance. She kept her dark eyes lowered, not wanting to make eye contact with one of the men and encourage any advances. Stepping over pieces of film equipment, and the whirlpool in her belly only getting worse, Noa suddenly became overly nauseous and felt lightheaded. She stumbled and was sure she would topple over when a strong arm reached out for her, snaking around her shoulders. _

_"Oh!" Noa gasped._

_"Careful, little lady." an oily voice cooed close to her ear. Jumping out of the person's arms, Noa reeled back and saw her surprised, bug-eyed expression reflected in two of the most vicious black orbs she had ever seen. _

_The man who had saved her from a terrible spill was tall and athletic, his features all sharp, making him look like a strange lizard that had slithered out from under a damp rock. His very presence made her skin feel as if bugs were scuttling all along her body, and that terrible nauseous feeling returned like a punch in the gut. She wrenched herself out of the man's grip, but before she could fully retreat he pressed forward, invading her space like a suffocating vacuum. _

_"Now what's the rush, doll?" he sneered, a slick smirk crossing his features. "No need to run away. We could go for a walk, maybe up to my hotel room? Get a little friendly?"_

_"No!" Noa cried out, the burning taste of bile crawling up her throat the closer the man got to her. She was going to be sick!_

_"What do you mean 'no'?" the stranger chuckled as he licked his lips. "I thought your people were supposed like a good fuck, or at least crawl around on their hands and knees for the right price."_

_The insult itself was repulsive, but the smell of smoke, the smell that had been clogging Noa's senses the entire day, seemed to be wafting off the stranger so powerfully that Noa began to gag. Was this what her sixth sense was trying to warn her about? Was this man the cause of all her unease? She had to get away, clear her head of that repugnant stench and talk to Alphonse and Edward. She took another step back, her eyes watering as if actual clouds of burning smoke were hitting her in the face._

_"Hey, where're you going?"_

_He reached out and grabbed her wrist with a clawing grip, forcing her up against his body. That's when the visions came, unbidden, harried and colorfully violent. A life of death and torture and bloodlust flashed before Noa's eyes, her mouth opening into a silent scream…_

* * *

"When he touched me…it was horrible." Noa stuttered, her body quivering in violent spasms as she recalled the visions that had bombarded her like a U-boat missile. "He's a trained killer, the Hochroter Tod."

"The Crimson Death." Ed sighed, his mind rapidly recalling any information he had read on Germany's proudest mass murderer. "He was executed nine years ago, death by firing squad. He couldn't…"

"He was saved in total secret. Kluge helped him escape." Noa supplied. Her voice was hollow and weak.

It was terrifying.

"He's been selling himself as a mercenary. And the things he's done! Children! He kidnapped orphans and…so much blood, all for his bombs. He's a maniac…oh, Alphonse!"

Noa collapsed against her husband's sturdy frame, squeezing him as tightly as she was able, soaking his shirt with tears as she tried vainly to dispel the images of young broken bodies blown apart into fleshy lifeless masses all for the sick experiments of the psychotic Hochroter Tod

"It's Kimblee." Al said severely, his eyes boring meaningfully into his older brother's.

"Kimblee?" Winry asked, staring between Ed and Al as they engaged in a silent communication that only they could understand.

"He knows we're here. He knows who I am, too." Al admitted shamefully.

"What? How?!" Ed demanded.

"I was brining dinner back when I saw him grab Noa. I ran over…

* * *

_"Excuse me." Al commanded harshly, dropping the food packets in his arms onto the ground as he marched up to the ruffian that was accosting his wife. He grabbed the strange man's wrist with controlled force and pulled him away from Noa. "Stop harassing my wife."_

_When the man turned to sneer at him, Al's eyes widened, taken aback by the man's face. Over the last five years, Al had become accustomed to seeing the familiar faces from his past on the other side of the Gate, but he was not at all prepared to confront this devilish visage. _

_A strangled gasp became clogged in the seventeen year old's throat as he recognized the lizard-like face of Zolf J. Kimblee. The man looked at him with a frown, eyes that were darker than black leering at him with the cold, intelligent gleam of a seasoned predator. _

_Even when he had first returned to his body and lost all memory of being a soul in a suit of armor, Al had dreamed of faces half remembered as they struggled through the veil of his amnesia. But in his nightmares there were always those same pitch black eyes that stared at him as if he were already dead, looking on with cold disdain before hands grabbed him and pulled him to the core of that darkness until his skin exploded into flames. The nightmares had been terrifying because Al couldn't decipher them, and even when he finally understood them, when he followed his brother through the Gate and was gifted with the memories of his lost years, the dreams of Kimblee and his bombs still left Al in a cold sweat. Noa had been the one to return peace to the turbulent mind of the silently suffering teenager and now his savior needed him to protect her from the same monster that sought to destroy Al from the inside out._

_"Wife, huh?" Kimblee sneered, ripping his arm out of Al's strong grip. "You know, just 'cuz you like to fuck 'em doesn't mean you have to marry them. I mean, don't you have any self respect? She's Roma. She's dirt."_

_Al snapped and grabbed Kimblee by the collar, very nearly giving into the urge to strangle him. Noa whined as she watched the scene unfold, her mind still lost between the reality that was surrounding her and the whirlwind aftershock of her violent visions._

_Al stared Kimblee down as if he were a rabid dog, facing the nightmare that had been chasing him for so many years. _

_Kimblee would not threaten Noa. _

_Al wouldn't allow it. _

_"You're one of the crew, right?" Al asked through grit teeth._

_"Just a hired hand." Kimblee shrugged, chuckling lowly like a chess player who had just set a clever trap and was about to call checkmate. Al refused to be intimidated._

_"You're aware that I'm Herr Heidrick, supervisor of this crew? I can have you cast out."_

_"All because I told you the truth?" Kimblee quipped._

_"Get out!" Al demanded, pushing Kimblee away. "You receive no wages for the day and you can find your own way back to Berlin."_

_Turning his back on the man, Al wrapped an arm around the trembling Noa. He kissed her brow, shot Kimblee a last defiant glance, and proceeded to lead his wife away, their dinner forgotten on the ground where Al had dropped it._

_"Better be careful, Herr Heidrick, you and your wife." Kimblee called out, his tone sounding as if he'd won a game. "It's dangerous out in the city at night. Lots of criminals running loose. Enemies of the country…the military…"_

_Al didn't dare to respond to Kimblee's inquiry, nor did he falter in his pace. His back did stiffen, however, and his grip on Noa's shoulder tightened, his ears training to catch Kimblee's mocking words._

_"Aw, what's wrong, Herr? You're acting like somebody's stuck-up little brother." _

_The words were bait to a trap, Al knew it. He wouldn't be tricked, but his heart began to beat painfully in his chest, a cold weight of dread filling his stomach as he heard Kimblee's laughter fade away into the dark._

_"Win…ry…he…Wi…n…"_

_"Noa?" Al asked softly, stopping to inspect his wife. She was shaking terribly, all control of her nerves having fled into the night. At a loss, Al embraced her tightly, his fingers threading through her hair as he pet her like a frightened stray kitten with a gentle touch and soothing words._

_Noa breathed in the scent of her husband with ravenous gulps, trying to devour his composure and erase the suffocating cloud of smoke that had engulfed her when she was with that strange, horrible man. As her husband held her tightly her world stopped spinning, images came into sharp focus, and the bloody visions rippled away so that she could at last think clearly._

_Al was hugging Noa tightly, his soft dry lips kissing her flushed temples as he mumbled incoherent words of comfort. Noa clung to Al and squeezed him hard then lifted her head to look into his eyes._

_"We have to find Winry and Edward." Noa said urgently._

_"Yes." Al agreed. "Kimblee knows I'm Ed's brother, doesn't he?"_

_"It's worse." Noa admitted._

_"What did you see?" Al asked, cupping his wife's face, allowing his thumbs to wipe away the tears Noa didn't know she shed._

_"Commander Kluge hired that man to take Winry back to the Fortress. His orders are to not kill her or Edward, but you…Kluge showed him a picture of Edward and said the younger brother looked similar. He killed one of the crewmen and took his place at the studio in Berlin and when he saw you he began to watch you…and follow you…he's guessed who you are."_

_Al's lips spread into a grim line and he looked back to the spot where he had confronted Kimblee moments ago. The killer was gone, having vanished like a shadow, his cruel laughter lingering like a storm cloud... _

_"We have to get out of here." Al stated urgently. Taking his wife's hand, the couple rushed back towards the hotel. "Which room are they in?"_

_"I'll take you." Noa said, her fingers lacing through Al's as they ran back to the hotel, hoping they weren't too late…_

* * *

"We're leaving now." Ed announced barely a breath after Al had finished describing his encounter with Kimblee. "Winry, Noa, get the kids and their things. Be ready in five minutes."

The two women nodded and got up to leave, Winry only stopping to grab her travel satchel and toolkit before following Noa out of the room.

"Brother…"

"We'll use the truck you drove here and go to the train station." Ed commanded calmly. "We'll get the first train that's leaving this place, I don't care where it takes us. We've got to keep Winry safe…I can't let Kimblee get her."

"We won't let it happen." Al promised confidently, clapping his brother on the shoulder. Ed nodded, strengthened by the assurance that laced Al's voice.

They would get away. The children would go to their new homes, Al and Noa would be unharmed, Eddie would be happy, and Winry…she would be safe.

"You know," Ed grumbled as he grabbed his coat and single suitcase, "I don't believe killing is the answer. I promised myself a long time ago that, if I could help it, I wouldn't…but now Kluge's got that maniac tracking us I'm starting to wonder if I should have ended this long ago. I mean, I could, with the bomb…"

"I know we hid the uranium bomb where we did incase it came to that…but…has it really come to that? Is setting off the bomb really our only option?" Al whispered.

The question hung in the air between the brothers like a translucent veil. Each understood the other, their emotions and their motives and fears. It wasn't the first time the Elrics had been faced with the difficult moral conundrum of kill or be killed. But before, it was only ever about them. Ed knew Kluge would like him dead and all the better if he got Alphonse's head on a platter, too. The brothers had accepted their dangerous life, knowing they could be killed at virtually any moment. Then when Eddie was born and after Noa legally became a member of the family, the urgency to protect became a fierce second nature to the brothers. There was also a determined resolve to not become like the monsters they were fighting against which meant no senseless killing. And though it might be the end that justified the means, setting off the uranium bomb would be senseless.

"You got the keys?" Ed asked, his moment of weakness having fled, his stubborn nature sparkling from the core of his golden eyes.

Al gave his brother a relieved smirk.

"Yeah."

Ed smirked back and gave Al an affectionate punch in the shoulder.

"We're ready." Winry announced hurriedly, peeking into the room.

"Daddy!" Eddie cried, pushing past Winry to launch himself into his father's arms. "What's happening? Why we going? I hungry! Wanna eat!"

"Edward!" Ed snapped loudly, halting his son's barrage of cranky questions and demands. The three year old slapped his mouth shut, but his crossed arms and scowl betrayed his grumpy attitude. Ed stared down at his son, knowing his features mirrored that same cross grimace and forced himself to keep calm. The kids would get scared if they spotted how truly panicked he was. Winry walked towards father and son, handing Ed Eddie's dark wig. "Thanks."

"No, Daddy!" Eddie grumbled, stretching his neck and twisting his head in a vain attempt to get away.

"Yes, Eddie." Ed stated, successfully shrugging the wig onto the wriggling boy's head.

"Itchy!" Eddie cried, reaching up to rip the offending disguise off his scalp.

"You take that off, young man, and I'll be very mad with you. I'll never take you out with me again." Ed warned darkly, his expression grave and eyes hard. The sharp disciplinary reprimand startled the little boy who was not used to seeing his father so grim. Tears began to collect in Eddie's eyes, making them shine like freshly sifted gold. But he didn't sob. Instead he lowered his hands form the wig and slumped in his father's arms.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Edward?" Paz asked earnestly.

"We're just leaving a little sooner than planned." Ed said casually, shifting his sulking child in his arms. "We're going to the train station now. Paz, you take care of Ruth and Yafit, OK?"

"OK." Paz relied, taking the hands of both girls in his. Ruth squeaked, but didn't pull her hand out of Paz's grip.

"Is it a game?" Yafit wondered. Paz locked eyes with the Elric brothers, his kind and trusted caretakers. He could see through the false bravado of their excuses and realized that something was dangerously wrong. There was an urgency that radiated off their bodies like the rays of the sun, and because Paz was an intelligent, well read boy, he understood what Edward and Alphonse were asking of him without having to put words to the request.

"It's like tag." Paz answered with as much joviality as he could muster, flashing Yafit an encouraging smile. He turned that same smile to Ruth to show her his confidence, but when she didn't return the grin and instead gave his hand a hard squeeze, Paz knew she had also picked up on the direness of the situation.

"Let's go." Ed ordered. "We're going to the truck. Follow Al."

"Right." Noa said, her arms laden with the children's travel packs. Al led the group out of the hotel room, Paz, Ruth and Yafit behind him and Noa behind them. Winry followed the Roma woman, leaving Ed and Eddie to bring up the rear.

"Hey! Why'd you stop?" Ed yelled when Winry suddenly came to a halt just outside the door, causing the twenty-three year old to crash into her back and jostling his still sulking child. Winry didn't answer Ed's inquiry, quickly patting herself down before her hand gave her left coat pocket a few reassuring slaps.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure I had my wrench." she apologized.

"That wrench again?!" Ed groaned.

"Hey! That wrench is very important to me. Not only was it a gift from you but it's saved my life on more than one occasion." Winry barked.

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it." Ed snorted, giving Winry's back a rough shove with his shoulder. "Hurry up!"

"I am!"

They left the room without closing the door, doing their best to not look like a guilty band of refugees on the run, but their haste to escape without Kimblee noticing drove them past pretense and into sort of controlled panic. They made their way past the few lingering crew that were finishing unloading the trucks and trickled out to the dimly lit parking lot, Al's truck tucked away in a far corner and obscured by shadows.

"Go!" Ed barked like a general leading his troops, causing Winry to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from commenting aloud that Ed reminded her of the Roy Mustang from their world, a leader through and through, whose authority and single-minded focus inspired his subordinates to action. She adjusted her toolkit over her shoulder, trying not to smile as she pictured Ed's look of fury…

_BOOM!_

No one in the motley group was even aware there had been an explosion until long moments afterwards when they all became slowly conscious that their bodies were strewn on the pavement of the parking lot like discarded dolls, their limbs aching as if hit by a wall of stone.

Ed's ears became the prison of a high-pitched whistle and his right ankle felt as if it had been badly twisted. He knew there was likely an atrocious lump on his head, and he was certain he felt warm blood oozing from his right cheek. The pungent stench of smoke and burning gasoline invaded his senses, getting trapped in his nose and mouth, burning his throat and stinging his eyes and that damn ringing just wouldn't stop!

"Whaaaaaaaaa!"

Eddie's cry, muffled by the squeal caught in Ed's ear, pulled Ed's attention away from pain in his own body and he looked down at his chest to discover his three year old still nestled snuggly in his arms. Eddie's little fists were wound tightly in the material of Ed's shirt, his face pressed deeply over Ed's beating heart as he cried shrilly. Ed ran his shaking fingers through the dark wig that had somehow managed to remain on the boy's head, his mind struggling though the fog and that damn annoying ringing as his eyes strained to pierce through the smoke caused by the explosion…

Explosion!

"Al! Alphonse! Winry!" Ed cried, his head twisting back and forth in a fevered panic as he searched for his family.

"Mr. Edward!"

"Ruth? That you?" Ed called over the muffled sobs of his son.

"Yeah." Ruth answered. She sounded close, but the black smoke was dissipating so slowly that Ed couldn't make out exactly where the girl was. "Me and Yafit are fine, but Paz is hurt!"

"No I'm not!" Paz spat.

"His head's bleeding!" Ruth informed.

"I'm fine!" the twelve year old growled. His voice sounded strained, like he was using all of his strength just to speak.

"Brother?"

"Al? Where are you? Are you OK?" Ed asked. The smoke was finally fading and Ed could make out two lumpy figures about fifteen feet ahead of him.

Al was helping Noa to stand, holding her close as he looked around at the rubble. Smoldering rubber and charred metal littered the ground around them. Al could feel the stinging pain of shrapnel digging into his right shoulder, but he ignored it.

"The truck blew up." Al stated in matter-of-fact surprise. "It just…it exploded."

Ed bit his bottom lip and began to rock Eddie in his arms.

"Shhhhh...it's OK, buddy. It's gonna be fine." Ed cooed.

"Ears hurt." Eddie whined, his little fists coming up to press hard against the sides of his head.

"I know. My ears hurt too, but it'll go away soon." Ed soothed, kissing Eddie's brow as he tried to calm his own frantic nerves, golden eyes continuing to squint through the smoke as he sought the one person unaccounted for.

"Nugh…" someone moaned close to Ed's left. Ed directed all of his focus to that spot, a wave of relief cresting over his heart when he spotted a disheveled head of lemon blond hair pierce through the grey smoke. She was moving and moaning and cursing, and that meant she was alright.

"Winnie! I want Winnie!" Eddie started to scream, burrowing his face painfully against Ed's chest, his little fists trembling against his ears.

"You're OK, Win?" Ed asked.

"I'm fine. Sore, but fine." Winry assured, pushing herself forward.

Her head was fuzzy and the chaos from the explosion made her whole body feel as if it was writhing in the throes of a shockwave. She had landed badly on her toolkit when the explosion blew her down, her spine protesting every movement she made as she sough her most precious treasure. Her toolkit was still draped over her shoulder, but that wonderfully secure weight of her wrench as it sat cradled in her coat pocket had vanished. Winry knew it was childish for a woman her age to cling so diligently to a wrench that was old and had lost its full usefulness years ago, but it was a present Ed had given her and it had stayed with her when Ed could not.

Squinting as the smoke continued to slowly dissipate and reaching out with eager fingers, Winry felt for her wrench, unwilling to leave it behind.

"Well, good evening, doll. The name's Winry, right?" an oily voice whispered into Winry's ear, so close that a wet tongue brushed against the lobe. Choking back a scream, Winry reflexively sat straight up on her knees, giving the predator behind her the perfect opportunity to capture her in his steely, dangerous grasp. A lean arm wrapped forcefully around her neck, leaving the mechanic a victim of a torturous chokehold. Her back was pressed intimately against an unrelenting chest and a long, boney chin found a pillow on her right shoulder. "My, my, my, what do I have here?" that same sneering voice teased unpleasantly.

Winry swallowed a gag as the man's grip around her neck tightened and pulled.

"Kimblee! Let her go!" Al cried, his voice hard and raw, a likely combination of terror and throat damage from the thick smoke. His words, however, left Winry sure that the seventeen year old would attack the crazed mercenary with brute strength, heedless of the damage incurred to his own body. When that body had been a suit of armor, the abuse Al could take physically was extreme, making him virtually indestructible, but he wasn't a body of iron any longer. He was a man of flesh and blood and bone and he could now be very easily killed, and Kimblee was very willing to be the executioner.

"I told you to be careful of criminals lurking in the dark didn't I, Herr Heidrick? But it's Herr Elric, isn't it?" Kimblee teased. "I wouldn't get any closer, Herr Alphonse Elric. I might get twitchy and accidentally break this pretty dame's neck."

Kimblee's low, menacing chuckle was more deafening than the explosion, and his words succeeded in freezing Alphonse, Noa and the children. Knowing that he wasn't about to be threatened, Kimblee turned his twinkling dark, narrowed glare on the man sitting just three meters before him and grinned. "If that's Alphonse, I suppose that would make you the thorn in Roy's side, Edward Elric."

Kimblee smiled almost youthfully at his cleaver remark, like a perfectly content naughty schoolboy that wasn't bothered that he was being punished. He enjoyed the unrestrained hot fury that radiated off of Ed, and held Winry just a little tighter, making her gasp, that sweet little painful noise that left Edward Elric trembling in his rage.

"Nicely done, by the way." Kimblee complimented conversationally. "You've really left Roy in a frazzled twist. If we weren't enemies I'd shake your hand. I can't stand that man."

"Then why are you taking orders from him like a pathetic lap dog?!" Ed snapped, his body tense as he struggled with himself and the limited options before him. He had to get Winry away from that monster, hide her and protect her, but Eddie was still sobbing against him, his face thankfully pressed along his father's sturdy chest, the dark wig and thick smoke also aiding in concealing the child from Kimblee's view. Ed was frantically torn, knowing he had to protect both his son and Winry, but the situation was growing increasingly tense, leaving Ed with the revolting taste of helplessness in the bowels of his gut.

He didn't know what to do.

"You know, I'm kind of disappointed." Kimblee tisked, pulling Winry slightly to the right side of his body so that he could better scrutinize the golden haired man sitting before him a like a wretched cowering boy. He ignored the struggles of the woman in his arms, confident that she would be unable to get out of his grasp, though he liked that she squirmed, the thrill of her panic already causing his blood to rush to his groin, and he was sure to have a hard, painful erection before this encounter was over.

The torture was delicious!

The pain that radiated from the core of Edward Elric's eyes was a heady aphrodisiac, his grimace merely a dazzling challenge for the former Crimson Death.

"I confess, I expected more from the man who's actually a threat to that asshole, Kluge." Kimblee stated. "I mean, you walked straight for the truck without bothering to check the perimeter, even let those kids lead the way. You didn't really think I was going to let any of you get out of here, especially you, pretty?" Kimblee kissed Winry's cheek then, enjoying how she shuddered. Her body was still straining against him, her pert bottom grinding into his crotch with each movement she made, her arms reaching out so that her fingers trailed along the asphalt. She was stretching out for Edward, not doubt imploring him with those large baby blue eyes to save her, something which the great Herr Elric was completely impotent against. The more she pulled against Kimblee's grasp, the more his grip around her neck tightened.

The black smoke, a happy result from the pipe bomb that Kimblee had detonated from under Alphonse's truck, was now quickly dissipating, the figures of the others becoming clearer by the second and the rumble of a gathering crowd getting louder. It was time to leave, but the wounded look on Edward Elric's face and the grinding struggles of the woman in his arms were too tempting an excitement.

Relishing in the moment, Kimblee decided to give in to one final taunt before making good his escape with his pretty hostage. Crouched over on one knee, Kimblee leaned forward, making sure to put on his most charming smile.

"Is that a kid, you got there, Edward? I bet they'd be perfect for one of my little experiments. Why don't you turn them around so I can get a better look?"

"Fuck you, asshole!"

The vulgar declaration did not come from sneering lips of the crouched, golden haired man. Stunned, Kimblee was slow to react as Winry violently jerked in his hold so that she was half facing him. She moved quickly, as lethal and accurate as a seasoned soldier, throwing back her right arm and swinging forward with strength unimaginable for an average female. She struck him hard in his left knee cap with a wrench, no doubt the object she had been seeking the whole time she was straining within his chokehold, a primal roar escaping her pert, peach mouth. The bone cracked, certainly fractured, and Kimblee's knee gave out from under him, but before he could collapse onto the pavement, Winry struck out again, smashing the cool chromium alloy into his jaw, forcing his head to twist sharply to the left, the shockwaves from the strike causing his eyes to roll up into the back of his head.

Even as he felt his body slacken and fall brokenly to the ground, Kimblee sneered. Winry easily slipped out of Kimblee's loose grasp and pulled away.

"Come on!" she cried, staggering clumsily to her feet, hefting her toolkit more comfortably on her shoulder.

"Winry! Are you…"

"We have to hurry!" Winry growled, interrupting Al's worried queries. "Come on, Ed."

The young father was already on his feet and at Winry's side, pulling her to him with his left arm, needing the hurried embrace to assure himself that Winry was free from Kimblee's hold and safe once more.

"Edward, others are coming." Noa hissed.

Looking around the parking lot, the black smoke from the explosion was now rapidly clearing and several people, most of them crew members and hotel staff, were edging cautiously towards the mess. A small party was already gathered around the ashen skeleton of the flaming truck, in the process of arranging a human chain to begin passing buckets of water from the hotel to the burning automobile until a fire truck arrived.

Kimblee was crumbled nearby on the pavement, unmoving and seemingly unconscious, but that didn't quell Ed's frantic eagerness to put as much distance between his family and the crazed mercenary as possible.

"Let's go." Ed ordered, shifting Eddie in his arms.

"But what…"

"We need a car." Ed said, cutting Al off. "Follow me."

"Are we still headed for the train station?" Noa asked, taking Ruth and Paz's hands while Al carried Yafit. They followed Ed through the smoke and away from the crowd.

The little family of refuges didn't look back towards the parking lot, but if they had, one of them might have noticed Kimblee's body convulsing as he chuckled lowly.

* * *

"Brother!" Al murmured agitatedly. "What are you doing?!"

"Borrowing Lang's car." Ed answered back smartly as he slithered though the hotel's private parking area, his eyes trained on the pewter and nickel colored Lincoln that was sitting close to a secluded wall. "Winry, you know how to hotwire one of these things, right?"

"Yes, but Ed…"

"Here, hold Eddie." the young man instructed, placing his upset child in Winry's arms, noting that the three year old immediately latched on to Winry's neck and sought comfort from her with easy association. The short moment made Ed smile, but there was no time to appreciate Eddie and Winry's bonding. He continued to ignore the grumbled protests of his brother, focused completely on their quick escape. Lang's American automobile could handle the speed that the group required to make a fast retreat. In the dark shadows, the seven people sidled up to the Lincoln Coupe, sweeping the immediate area quickly before regarding the expensive car. "Sorry about this, Lang." Ed whispered as he pulled back his right arm, his fingers closed into a fist as he prepared to smash the driver's seat window.

"Well, good evening." a familiar cheery voice greeted from above. Ed froze, his fist mere inches away from the window of the car. Looking up incredulously, the group discovered Fritz Lang looking down on them from the unassuming perch of his hotel room's balcony. He was wearing a rich blue velvet housecoat, plush matching gold thread slippers, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a fat, half-smoked cigar in the other. He was grinning admirably down at the frazzled family below, not seeming in the least concerned that they were very obviously stealing his expensive automobile. "I heard the explosion. Causing trouble already, Edward?" Lang chuckled.

"Sorry Lang, but we need to leave immediately and you've got the quickest ride." Ed replied severely, no hint of humor in his tone as, once again, he moved to smash the car's window.

"Brother!" Al admonished.

"Wouldn't this all be easier if you had the keys?" Lang asked, taking a sip of whiskey. His teasing words succeeded in saving his car a second time from the mighty hammer of Ed's automail fist. The film director only took a second to enjoy the frustrated look that Edward threw up at him from four stories below before pulling the keys to the Lincoln out of his pocket and dropping them down to the group. Ed caught the keys with cool grace, his annoyed stare never training off of Lang. The man smiled, waiting patiently for the ungrateful remark that was sure to expel from Edward, but Alphonse spoke before his brother could get in a rude word.

"Thank you, Herr Lang!" the younger Elric called, opening a door and nearly shoving the women and children into the back of the car. "Come on, Ed. Kimblee could wake up and come for us at any moment." Al urged, settling himself in the front passenger's seat. With a huff, Ed moved to clamor into the car.

"You'll want to drive south to get to the train station." Lang drawled.

"Humph!" Ed answered as he started the engine.

"Please try to bring her back to me in one piece, Edward." Lang sighed in good humor as he watched the little family of refugees and fugitives speed away into the darkness. In a matter of moments, Lang's shiny, new, and obscenely expensive pewter and nickel colored American Lincoln Coupe Roadster had been swallowed up by the night and Lang had the rueful feeling that he would never see his automobile again which was a shame was really.

He had left his favorite walking stick in the back seat.

* * *

Edward weaved in and out of traffic in a chaotic frenzy, taking corners too sharp, swerving around the few automobiles that dotted the Frieburg streets, sure to draw the attention of the police if he wasn't careful. He had just taken another hard corner, the car's wheels banging hard on the curve before slamming back onto the road and nearly overturning the vehicle when Winry finally spoke.

"Where the hell did you learn how to drive?!" she yelled, her fingers digging into the corners of the leather covered seats.

"Shut up and let me drive, woman!" Ed snapped back, his golden eyes trained on the road, searching for the street signs that would lead him to the train station. However, he was so edgy that his concentration was suffering and he knew that he would need to ask for help or be forced to backtrack and loose precious time. "Al, which way do I go?"

Al quickly dug through the snug pocket on the passenger's car door and pulled out a neatly folded map that had the name '_**Frieburg'**_ printed in bold black letters on the front flap. Anxious and glad to have something to do, Al nearly ripped the map in his rush to open it. His dark maple syrup eyes quickly scanned the oddly colored streets and intersections, looking for a landmark to give him a better idea of where they were headed and where they needed to go.

When he found the train station on the map, Al nearly bit his tongue.

"Ed, we're going the wrong way! Turn around!"

The brakes squealed shrilly under the sharp, desperate pressure Ed applied to the pedal as he frantically shifted the gears and spun the wheel to get the automobile turned around, narrowly missing a collision with an innocent streetlight.

"Edward!" Winry bellowed, having taken a hold of Eddie to cushion him from the violent turnaround.

"I can't talk now, Winry." Ed answered back smartly through grit teeth, his gaze so focused on the road that he was suffering from a deranged tunnel vision fueled by his urgency and panic. Only one thought flashed through his mind with the electrical force of a transmutation circle.

'_Get away. Keep everyone safe. Protect them!_'

Another dangerous turn shuffled the passengers in the Lincoln Coupe and Yafit bumped her temple so hard against the window that a red welt was immediately beginning to form. Clinging to Noa's skirts, the six year old began to howl, her cries upsetting Eddie who also began to sob in Winry's arms. Narrowing her blue eyes and gritting her teeth, Winry stared lethally at the backs of the Elric brothers.

"Are you trying to get us killed?!" Winry demanded darkly.

"Just the opposite!" Ed roared back, taking his eyes off the road ahead for a single half-second to throw Winry a narrowed, surly glance.

"Watch out!"

Jolted by Noa's warning scream, Ed slammed hard on the brakes, all passengers closing their eyes and preparing for impact, but a crash never came. The car skidded to a jarring halt, jostling all inside. Gathering his wits, Ed raised his head, about to yell at Noa for her alarming cry when he realized that bright lights were harshly shinning into the Lincoln Coupe from a source barely ten yards away from the front of the car. Squinting, Ed strained to pierce the yellow light and see what object lay beyond it.

He heard the sound of an idling motor before he was able to clearly make out the outline of a car behind the light. The engine of the mysterious car began to rev, a warning that whoever was behind the wheel was no friend.

"It's him." Al said, just barely able to decipher the sharp, angular outline that could only belong to Zolf Kimblee.

"Which way to the station, Al?" Ed asked.

"Mr. Edward..."

"Straight up this street is the fastest, but we can go a roundabout way if we can get to that left turn there." Al answered, ignoring Paz's concerned questions and quickly consulting the map. He was pointing to a spot a few feet behind Kimblee's threatening car.

"OK." Ed said, adjusting his tight grip on the steering wheel. "You're gonna wanna brace yourselves."

"No, Ed." Winry warned, knowing instinctively that the hotheaded, irrational twenty-three year old was intending on charging Kimblee's car. "We've got the kids…"

"You hold on to Eddie, Noa grab Yafit and Ruth and Paz you sit on the floor and find something to hold on to." Ed commanded.

"I'm serious, Ed." Winry huffed.

"So am I." Ed growled before stepping on the gas pedal, forcing it down to the floor. The Lincoln jostled and groaned in protest as it was forced into a sudden acceleration, jerking forward as Ed headed straight for Kimblee's car. Forced back into her seat, Winry squeezed Eddie hard to her body, the boy going silent as he sensed the tense danger around him. Any protest the mechanic had died on her lips as Kimblee's car got closer, her fear of Ed's driving skills and state of mind leaving her mute.

Ed charged forward, and just when it seemed he would crash into Kimblee's car and kill them all, he swerved onto the sidewalk, taking out the Lincoln's passenger side mirror along their enemy's automobile. They swiftly passed the idling car and veered left in the direction Al had pointed out.

They didn't make it very far before the roar of Kimblee's car catching up to them rumbled like incoming thunder. Looking out the window, Noa gasped when she spotted the nose of the automobile coming up fast on the right side of the car. The gypsy woman gagged when the chasing car gained speed and pulled forward, Kimblee's sneering, joyful face coming into view. He was leering like a tiger on the hunt and then, like that same feral beast of the jungle, he sped forward, surpassing the Lincoln Coupe and charging down the street until it was almost a tiny speck in the distance before making a sudden shift when the road ended to turn right up another street.

"What's he doing?" Ed wondered.

"You have to turn left up here, brother." Al informed.

"Left?" Ed echoed, wondering why Kimblee had gone right when it was fairly obvious that the mad man knew that the group was trying to flee for the train station. Getting closer to the intersection, Ed was prepared to turn left and continue on the way to their destination when a shattering boom rattled the car and nearly made Ed loose control of the vehicle. The road shifted and cracked as asphalt flew into the air along with rock and brick. Ed reacted quickly and pulled right, narrowly missing a collapsing streetlight as it was dislodged by the explosion and smashed to the ground below. "Son of a bitch!" Ed yelled.

"Another bomb!" Noa gasped.

"Mr. Edward, I'm scared." Yafit whimpered.

"Don't be scared, Yafit." Al soothed, turning in his seat so that he could look at the little girl. She was settled snuggly on Noa's lap, arms and legs wrapped around the Roma woman, eyes squeezed tightly shut as salty tears leaked slowly down her cheeks. "We're going to be alright. Soon, we're going to get on a train and go to Paris, just like I promised." Al insisted softly before turning around in his seat to shoot his brother a fierce and concerned stare.

"He's herding us in." Ed said curtly.

"He's going to use those bombs to force us into a corner. He'll trap us and there's nothing we can do." Winry commented.

"Have a little faith in me, Win." Ed grumbled.

"This coming from the guy who couldn't keep his automail in one piece for more than two weeks." Winry scoffed.

"Would it kill you to trust me just on…"

Another explosion rattled the occupants in the car, forcing them to take an immediate left. Curses rang throughout the Lincoln Coupe as Edward momentarily struggled for control of the car. He eased on the gas and peered down the street he had been forced on, not catching a single glimpse of Kimblee's automobile.

"He must already be where he wants this to end." Ed observed.

"There's a bridge at the end of this street." Al informed, consulting the map. "He might try to force us off the road, or grab Winry and dispose the rest of us in the canal."

"Not gonna happen." Ed stated affirmatively, bringing the Lincoln Coupe to a stop. "Everyone out!"

"What are you planning, Edward?" Noa asked as she ambled out of the car, Yafit still hanging from her like a scarf. Paz and Ruth stumbled along, holding hands. An untidy bandage made from a strip of cloth was wrapped around the boy's head, held together by a hair pin. It was not doubt the untrained care of young Ruth, still visibly distressed by the splotches of blood that leaked through the cloth, a testament to the mild severity of Paz's head wound.

"What can we do, Mr. Alphonse?" Paz asked, sitting down in the middle of the street.

"I don't know. Brother?"

"I need something heavy." Ed muttered to himself, ignoring Al's questions as he scanned the area before grabbing a chunk of rock that had landed on the car's roof from one of the three explosions they'd encountered. "Find me something to jam the wheel with, Al."

"What are you doing?" Al asked as he went to his brother's side.

"Kimblee thinks he's got us cornered, that we'll just go running into his arms. Well, he's never messed with the Fullmetal Alchemist." Ed proclaimed a cockiness he hadn't displayed since his days as that infamous state alchemist. "Since the bastard's so sure of himself he won't be on full alert. He'll see the car coming up the street and think we're inside. It's a straight drive up to that bridge, right Al?"

"Uh-huh."

"Perfect. Now I just need something to secure the steering wheel."

"Here." Winry interjected, holding out a long ebony walking stick with gold plated decoration. Ed grinned at the woman as he took the offering, noting that Winry was still holding on to Eddie with a maternal comfort.

"Thanks."

"I do trust you." Winry said as Ed snapped the walking stick to set it to the correct size so that it fit snuggly against the wheel. He smiled to himself as he started the Lincoln, placing the rock on the gas pedal and shifting the gears so that the automobile lurched forward on its doomed path.

"How long do you figure we have?" Noa asked.

"Not even ten minutes, and that's hoping the car keeps going straight." Al answered as he took Yafit from his wife. "We need another car. Kimblee knows we're headed for the train station and when he sees the car is empty he'll go there. We need to get a head start."

"I know. Come on." Ed firmly instructed

The band of eight rushed down the street, making their way back to the scene of the fourth explosion they had encountered that evening. Already, a fair sized group of concerned citizens and curiosity seekers had gathered around the area, pushed back by a few police officers as several uniformed officials assessed the carnage.

Ed cursed Kimblee at the same time he whispered a silent prayer that no one had been hurt in the explosion. Looking down the streets, Al pointed out a parked burgundy Oldsmobile Street Rod and subtly ushered Winry, Noa and the children towards the car. With the complete focus of everyone on the street trained on the officers and firemen working to control the chaos, Ed knew he had to jump on the opportunity to steal the Oldsmobile undetected.

The clamor from the crowd drowned out the sound of breaking glass.

"Winry, I'll need you to get this baby started." Ed requested as he shook the broken window glass from the car's front seat. He was confident in Winry's skill with machines and knew she could get the automobile to start. If she was able to get a piece-of-shit tractor to run like a well oiled Rolls-Royce at fifteen, she should be able to work miracles with a fairly new model automobile at twenty-three.

"Leave it to me." Winry answered smartly as she put Eddie into Ed's arms and thrust her toolkit into the back seat. Winry twisted herself to fit under the steering wheel so that she could access the proper wires to jump-start the Oldsmobile.

Within moments the burgundy car purred to life and Ed nearly hooted his happiness before moving to take his place in the driver's seat.

"I don't think so." Winry answered as she sat up and got comfortable behind the wheel. "I'm driving."

"Winry…"

"I've experienced your driving, Edward, and I'm not prepared to do it again. So get in the back."

"Just do it, Ed." Al requested tiredly, already sitting in the front passenger's seat. Seeing he was outnumbered, Ed squeezed himself into the back of the car, forced to find foot space around Winry's toolkit and taking both Eddie and Ruth onto his lap.

"Hang on." Winry said as she shifted the car into drive and raced away from the crowd and, most likely, the Oldsmobile's owner. "Where do I go, Al?"

"We'll back track. Take your next left and then the third left. That'll get us back on that main street that will take us right to the train station."

"Got it."

Flawlessly, Winry executed Al's instructions with safe precision and talented skill, not once giving anyone in the automobile a near heart-attack with erratic swerving or reckless tricks. They made it to the Freiburg train station within fifteen minutes, more than enough time for Kimblee to have discovered their deception, but hopefully still in time to catch a departing train and leave the mercenary far behind them. Hurrying out of the stolen car, everyone rushed inside of the station, the blaring sound of a nearby train whistle sounding like a church choir.

"We want the first train out of here." Ed stated.

"Where we going, Daddy?" Eddie grumbled, looping his arms loosely around Ed's neck. The three year old was exhausted from hunger and terrified excitement and was already starting to doze within the calming, safe circle of his father's arms.

"There's a train leaving right now!" Noa exclaimed as her dark chocolate eyes rapidly perused the schedule that was posted on the wall before the group. "A civilian train, and it's going to Paris. Platform three."

"Sounds like our train." Ed joked lamely just as the train whistle broke the silence of the night.

"That must be it. We'll have to run." Noa said.

"Right." Ed agreed, thrusting Eddie into Winry's arms before bending down to scoop up Ruth. Following his brother's logic, Al lifted Paz into his embrace, ignoring the boy's slurred protests that he was strong and fast enough to run after a moving train. Noa was holding onto Yafit again and with a quick, decisive nod, the four adults ran, surging from the train station and onto the platform, ignoring the stares and comments from the few other travelers that dotted the area. They all but jumped the tracks of platform one and dangerously slithered through the coupled cars of the stopped train on platform two, following the thick black tail of smoke and steam that was wafted down platform three.

Luckily, the train was just leaving and had not gained much speed, but the last few carts were all that the group of eight could see and if they didn't make the leap onto the train within the next few minutes, their chance at escape would be futile.

Al made the dangerous jump first, making the feat look effortless as he landed on the small balcony of the last cart, the cargo compartment. He put Paz down and reached over the railing. With strong, unyielding arms, he practically pulled Winry and Eddie up onto the moving train that was steadily gaining speed. Before Winry's feet even touched the steady wooden porch Ed had made the leap as well, taking only a few seconds to set Ruth on her feet before jumping off and chasing after Noa and Yafit. The Roma woman was having difficulty keep up with the train, and the added weight of little Yafit, combined with the sudden heaviness of the last hour and her mental exertion left her floundering in the final steps of escape. She wasn't even fully aware when Ed took Yafit from her the gripped her own arm in an obdurate grip as he yelled at her to keep moving.

"Put one foot in front of the other, Noa! You've got strong legs, now use them!"

Ed urged Noa forward desperately, ignoring the growing burn in his twisted right ankle and his own increasing lightheadedness. He didn't have time to worry about his injuries when his family was still at risk.

Ed pushed Noa hard, and if not for Al's always present arms, the gypsy woman would have fallen flat on her face on the railway, but she was saved by her husband's firm hands. Taking a hold of her upper arms, Al easily lifted Noa onto the narrow caboose balcony. She sagged against his strong body, smiling tiredly when she heard a muffled thump announce that Edward and Yafit were also on the train.

They had made it.

They were safe.

"Let's go." Ed ordered, opening the door that led into the cargo compartment and ushering his family inside. The compartment was dark, cold and uncomfortably brimming with all manner of luggage. Several dozen leather satchels and grandiose trunks were piled throughout the wooden chamber, some strapped down with large leather constraints. There were cages for the few napping animals that were being carted across the continent, though the clamor caused by the stowaways had caused a few cats, dogs and birds to perk up and take notice. There were also several wooden crates and dense boxes of every shape and size dotting the vast cargo cart. The crates were marked with a French stamp that neither Ed, Al or Noa bothered to read, though Edward did find it odd that there seemed to be a supply shipment being made on a civilian train.

They followed each other sluggishly to the other end of the cart, the full affect of the trauma they had survived that night striking them like a brick wall. It felt like they were walking through sand, slowly trudging through the cold back compartment and heading for the warmer civilian carts that would offer heat and light and perhaps some food.

Edward allowed his muscles to finally relax, the tension that had fueled his injured body for the last hour leaking away only to be replaced by a rapid surging fire that reminded the twenty-three year old that he had been hurt and would need some mild treatment and rest. In fact, it seemed that all of them could use time to heal and sleep. Al still had a small piece of shrapnel stuck in his arm, though it seemed that the bleeding had slowed. They would need bandages when they removed that piece, and Paz needed his head wound to be looked at, and Winry was subtly wincing as she walked, her back still sore from that first shattering bomb.

"Hey, Al," Ed called, digging into his coat pocket and shoving a wad of crumbled marks into his little brother's hand, "find a porter and buy us all tickets. See if you can get us some food, too."

"OK." Al agreed, moving to go on ahead of the others and do as Ed asked.

"Leaving so soon?"

Ed groaned brokenly while the others gasped as they turned around to find Zolf J. Kimblee. The man was standing casually in the doorway, seemingly indestructible. However, Ed noted the makeshift brace that kept Kimblee's left knee sturdy, and his chin had an ugly violet bruise discoloring it along with a half heeled shallow cut near the right corner of his mouth. The mercenary was favoring his right side and appeared winded, obviously beginning to feel fatigue after having to run after the train and climb aboard. The man's strength was dwindling, which left Edward and Kimblee on equal footing. Both were tired, but if Ed could manage to be just that little bit stronger…there was a chance he could stop the Crimson Death.

"Al, take everyone away from here." Ed ordered calmly, prepared to attempt a lone showdown with their ardent and relentless persuer.

"No, Ed!" Winry hissed, grabbing for his arm, but Ed shrugged her off and took a few challenging steps forward, holding a protective stance in front of his family.

"Go now."

"Broth…"

"Please."

Al paused at Ed's unusual show of humility, biting the inside of his cheek as he took in the situation before him. Ed did not turn away from Kimblee, keeping his hard golden eyes sharply intent on the sneering oily man that was more of a threat than the entire Nazi Party. Al didn't have to see the look in Ed's eyes to know what his brother was planning, and while he had confidence in Ed's abilities, Al was still uncomfortable to leave him to fight Kimblee alone. As it was, however, Al's responsibility was to keep Noa, Winry and the children safe.

"Let's go." Al said, moving to open the door that led to the civilian carts. "Come on." the seventeen year old urged when there was a moment's hesitation by Winry. Noa helped Paz, Ruth and Yafit cross the divide into the other cart. Winry was still clutching on to Eddie, the drowsing boy's face cradled against her collar bone, still shielding him from Kimblee's keenly observant lizard eyes. She was stuck, staring as Ed faced down the monster, wanting to stand beside him, to help him, but…

"Winry, go! Keep him safe. Can you just do that for me?" Ed said, his voice raw, like his vocal cords were shutting down. Edward Elric would rather face off with Roy Mustang, Kluge, the seven homunculus and his Teacher combined than ask for help from anyone, especially Alphonse or Winry. However, there always came those rare moments when Ed was trapped, his options few and so he had to rely on the strength of others to help him see his obligations through. As far as protecting Winry, Ed knew he trusted no other man as he trusted Alphonse, and as for Eddie, Ed knew Winry wouldn't let a fly touch his son.

He trusted them to protect each other, just as they trusted him to protect them.

They would never let each other down.

"Don't be an idiot!" Winry warned darkly, turning away and following the others out of the cargo compartment.

"I'll see you soon, sweetheart." Kimblee called before blowing a kiss to the back of Winry's head. And then the cramped cart was empty of any witnesses, a cold dark tunnel where men could easily transform into monsters away from judging eyes. While this sort of confrontation was the tangible reality Kimblee salivated over, he was rather winded and tired from the chase Elric and his crew had led him on through Freiburg. "This doesn't have to be difficult. Just give me the woman."

Ed spit on the floor between them, giving Kimblee his answer.

"How barbarian." Kimblee sighed. "Very well, it's a fight then."

"I'm waiting." Ed said swaggeringly, flashing his enemy a toothy smirk. Kimblee couldn't help but smirk back, recognizing the challenge in Edward Elric's dark golden eyes. One of them wasn't going to make it out of the cargo compartment alive, and since Elric had proven to be the most challenging of any of Kimblee's preys, the Hochroter Tod cackled, envisioning the hopefully bloody battle that would ensue.

Zolf Kimblee had killed a lot of people. He had delighted in executing the most agonizing of tortures on his victims of the past, watching the terror, disbelief and complete denial in their eyes as they begged for their lives. His favorite part was when they changed their tune and begged for death, that shimmering light deep within their eyes getting smaller and smaller until it was one single concentrated star before it popped and vanished.

Not Edward Elric's eyes.

The golden hue of those large eyes was aflame with the fires of hell and it would take all of Kimblee's strength to put it out.

It might even kill him.

The Hochroter Tod chuckled.

"This is going to be fun."

* * *

_Well, that was a tad over-the-top suspenseful and dramatic chapter wasn't it? I know it was pretty action/horror movie cliché to have Kimblee keep coming back to torture Ed and Winry just one final time, but I figured that Germany's most talented (and therefore dangerous) hired gun would be nearly immortal in his resiliency_

_Anyway, I apologize once again for taking so long to get this chapter out. I'm really dedicated to getting _Don't Forget_ finished in the next two three months, so I don't intend for there to be another huge gap between chapters like this previous one. _

_So, was the wait worth it?_

_Please, leave a review and tell me what your thoughts were on this chapter. No flames please and thank you!_

_My best regards and big hugs!_

**Giant Nickel**


	17. Cleaning Supplies

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist and am not making any money from this project whatsoever. That's right, I'm still a starving student, so don't sue, please!_

**A/N:**_ Hello my dear, lovely wonderful readers! I told you the wait would not be long for this chapter. I'm actually really hoping you enjoy this chapter because it was never supposed to exist. Originally, I was going to jump right into the action in Paris, but then I realized that I couldn't skim on Ed and Kimblee's epic battle, and so, this chapter was born. I must confess, I love Kimblee in this chapter. He, like Hughes, is just too much fun to write. Anyway, as always, I had a lot of fun writing this next installment and I hope that all of you will have fun reading it._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Cleaning Supplies**

_Germany_

_3. Oct. 28_

***

Winry froze in her tracks, unable to take another step further. They had already crossed five seating compartments on the train and were moving to cross the sixth when Winry came to such a sudden halt.

"Take Eddie." she said softly, causing the others ahead of her to stop and turn back. Winry handed the three year old to his uncle, but Eddie put up a half-hearted struggle, unwilling to be separated from her.

"No, Winnie. Don't go." Eddie begged through a sob, reaching out for her and nearly falling out of Al's arms.

"Winry, don't…"

"This is all happening because of me." Winry said, cutting Al's protests off. "The kids wouldn't be scared out of their wits, and you and Noa wouldn't be hurt if not for me."

"That's not what brother would say." Al offered.

"Well, Ed's been hogging all the guilt for years now. It's about time he share." Winry joked lamely. "He's always been the one out of the three of us to sacrifice the most. His childhood, an arm and a leg, his life, his soul…almost everything…I won't let him do this alone. Can you take my toolkit for me, Noa?"

"Of course." Noa agreed, taking the heavy case.

"He's doing his best to protect you, Winry. He doesn't want to see you get hurt." Al continued, rubbing one large hand up and down Eddie's back as the boy continued to sob, exhausted and frightened.

"I can help him." Winry insisted. "I want to protect _him_. I won't let him get himself killed because that man came after me."

"This isn't your fight, Winry." Al whispered harshly, leaning in close to the blond mechanic . He could see the odd dozing passenger giving the group curious, critical stares, but Al could care less. His nerves were already frayed and his worry for his brother was nauseating.

He didn't know if he could handle being left behind as Winry and Ed fought Kimblee.

"I'll go back and help Ed." Al suggested.

"No, don't you dare!" Winry hissed. "This _is_ my fight."

"You don't have to do it alone." Al insisted.

Winry smiled up at the young man before her, feeling as if she was truly seeing the strong, intelligent and very gentle seventeen year old for the first time. She reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that grew along his jaw. His eyes, a few shades darker than Ed's, were large and deep, filled with all those nights he had been alone and trapped in an iron body. He and Ed both had eyes like that, deep and dark, rich with wisdom and experience and pain. It seemed a shock to Winry when she realized just how much of a man Al had become. It was jarring to think that these boys she had known long before her first memory were both men beyond measure. And, like his brother, Al had inherited a protective streak that occasionally crossed the line into overbearing. While there might have once been a time when Winry relied on the Elric brothers' protection, she had learned to fend and defend herself and had the will to fight her own battles.

"I won't be alone." Winry said, lowering her hand. "Ed will be there, and knowing you're here, watching Eddie and everyone else is helping."

"Winry…" Al sighed, his voice a hushed, low timber that Winry had never noticed before.

She smiled.

"We'll be back." she promised. And giving both Al and Eddie quick kisses on the cheek, Winry turned and started to jog down the aisle. "Get your shoulder looked at Alphonse. I'll examine it myself when I come back!" Winry instructed with a quick wave.

Al watched her retreat, hugging his nephew tightly to his heart, knowing he couldn't go with Winry and his brother. It wasn't the first time Al had ever felt he'd been left behind, but strangely, it was the first time he felt as if his path forked away from Ed's and Winry's.

Al had always believed that his life was entwined fatefully with his brother and childhood friend, their paths going over the same fields, hills and horizons. While he had been uncertain when he and Ed had first exiled themselves to the other side of the Gate five years ago, Winry's return had only strengthened Al's belief. It had never occurred to the young Elric that one day their lives might veer away from one another…that they might go their own ways.

Was this their true fate? Were the Elric brothers and the Rockbell girl destined to only walk the same path for so long before that inevitable separation?

Was their bond really so fragile?

Al wanted to go after Winry, follow her back to the luggage cart and help Ed fight Kimblee, but Yafit's little sobs and Eddie's fists clutching around his neck reminded the young man that his responsibilities lay elsewhere. Kissing his fussing nephew on the brow, Al turned back and resumed his place as leader of the group and steadily walked in the opposite direction of his brother and best friend.

* * *

Ed didn't hesitate.

The moment his family was safely out of the cart and out of ear-shot Ed lunged forward, his automail arm pulled back and building up energy to swing. He had no weapons save his own body, but his years as a student of Izumi Curtis and facing the world as the Fullmetal Alchemist had given Ed the physical capabilities and the confidence to step into a conflict unarmed.

Ironically, it was his own arm that proved to be Edward's greatest asset in a fight.

Kimblee dodged the rapid succession of Edward's jabs and Ed moved too quickly for the mercenary to counter with his own blows. Kimblee jumped back, stumbling as he tried to secure his footing on the precarious pile of luggage he had landed on. He chuckled darkly, earning a growl from the golden haired man.

Ed's entire focus was trained on the maniacal assassin, but his mind was briskly taking in a mental catalogue of the compartment, observing everything in the room that could be used as a weapon.

'_Leather luggage is made up of silica, argon, carbon and trace amounts of magnesium. Too much trouble to make a spear. Wood is mainly carbon and hydrogen, some sulfur, potassium, calcium, maybe iron, still not enough to make anything better than a club. The animal cages are likely made of iron…that could work._'

Ed grit his teeth before giving his head a small, violent shake.

Even after seven years of being denied his craft, the man who had once lived as a state alchemist still caught himself deconstructing and reconstructing the world around him, particularly when he was in a tight fix. He had even fallen into the old habit of clapping his hands together before engaging in a brawl for the first few years he had lived on the other side of the Gate. While Ed no longer slapped his palms together, he had yet to permanently convince his mind and memory to let go of that once special talent. His knowledge of alchemy wouldn't help him in this battle. Ed would have to depend on his own strength to vanquish the dark haired soldier.

Kimblee shoot off the pile of luggage and vaulted forward, one leg tucked into his chest before he pushed out, aiming a strong, debilitating kick for Ed's right ankle. His movement was fast and precise, and Ed had left himself completely open for the attack. Kimblee hit the bone perfectly, not breaking it but certainly causing an explosion of pain to race up Ed's leg.

"Ah!" the young man cried, stepping back from his enemy, dazed by the accuracy of Kimblee's strike. This miniscule lapse in Ed's concentration allowed Kimblee to take another swing at the vulnerable flesh leg. He aimed to kick the knee, but Ed caught on to Kimblee's actions and moved to his right, unable to dodge the blow but able to avoid a direct hit to his knee, instead taking a painful strike to his thigh. Since Ed had sidestepped the attack, Kimblee pulled back and punched the twenty-three year old in his left shoulder, angling the strike in such a way that it was meant to dislodge the arm.

"Dammit!" Ed yelled when Kimblee hit him. The punch had hurt, white hot pain riding up his shoulder and neck to explode in the base of his brain, but Ed's arm didn't fall limply to his side. Kimblee hadn't succeeded in popping the shoulder out of its socket, but he had certainly ruptured several nerves.

Ed stumbled back, rushing to get away from another of Kimblee's attacks and regain his composure. Unfortunately, the luggage compartment was too packed, leaving little foot space for an unencumbered retreat and Ed fell back, landing hard on one of the many crates that dotted the cart. The edge of the cheap wooden box dug into his back and side, breaking under the force of Ed's fall. Sharp, small splinters poked through Ed's clothing and prodded his skin, making the young man all the more irritated and angry.

"It must be difficult fighting an enemy who knows your weakness." Kimblee sneered as he came to stand before Ed.

"So, you know about the automail." Ed noted.

"Roy did mention something about that arm and leg of yours." Kimblee offered casually as he leaned over Ed and flashed his most infuriating snigger. "It's an inconvenience, isn't it? After all, I know to keep my distance from your right arm and left leg, giving me every opportunity to strike your…weaker appendages. That must really piss you off."

"Actually, it just makes this feel really fucking good." Ed chuckled, moving much quicker than Kimblee had expected, striking out with his left foot and connecting harshly with Kimblee's ankle, forcing the man to stumble forward. Before he could fall on top of Ed, the golden haired man lurched up and punched Kimblee in the nose with his unyielding right fist, satisfied when he heard the bone squish and crack.

"Shit!" Kimblee yelled.

The Hochroter Tod collapsed and Ed smirked, thrilled at the knowledge that his right arm, the arm Winry had built, was the one that had brought the crazed killer down.

Kimblee groaned and moved to stand. Ed lunged, but Kimblee slipped out of his path, moving back so that several pieces of bulky luggage separated the men. A dark chuckle echoed throughout the room, the chilling sound causing some of the animals to bark, hiss and whine.

"Very good, Elric. Very good indeed." Kimblee sang as he raised his head to address Ed. Blood that seemed black in the badly lit cart trickled in thick ribbons down Kimblee's face, coating his mouth and chin. Snarling, the mercenary pursed his lips and blew a kiss at Ed before flicking his tongue out and licking the blood that stuck to his chin. "Mmm…"  
Ed bit back a gag, refusing to allow the man the pleasure of seeing his disgust. He really was a sadistic bastard.

"Well, Elric, it seems we're pretty evenly matched, doesn't it?" Kimblee drawled. "Impressive. I haven't felt like this in a fight since the war."

"Are you just gonna talk, or are we gonna finish this?" Ed snapped, already in a defensive position, waiting for the dark eyed man to make a move.

"Just a moment, Edward, no need to be impatient. You shouldn't rush a man about to make you the offer of a lifetime."

"Oh really? And what would that be, roll over and die and so you can finish Kluge's dirty work?" Ed sarcastically replied.

"There's no reason to be cocky. Why would you automatically think the worst of me?"

"Do you really expect me to answer that?"

Kimblee sighed, taking a moment to allow the tension in the room to build, giving Ed the opportunity to get just a little more anxious. Nerves had a remarkable way getting otherwise obstinate personalities to comply with one's demands, especially when they were defending someone they loved.

And the way that Edward Elric was willing to fight to his last breath to keep Winry from Kluge, Kimblee didn't doubt that the golden haired boy loved that fiery girl, which meant he had a perfect opportunity to exploit his enemy's feelings and get what he wanted.

"Let's negotiate." Kimblee suggested, holding up his hands in a gesture of compliance.

Ed didn't back down from his defensive stance, but his expression, hard and angry as it was, suggested that he might be willing to listen. Kimblee pressed his luck and took a tentative step in Ed's direction, hands still held up by his head as he calmly offered up his proposition.

"Now, there's no reason why two evenly matched foes can't find a compromise to their conflict without exterminating the other." Kimblee began.

"I thought that's what you did. They don't call you the Crimson Death because it sounds cute." Ed barked. "Besides, there's nothing I'd want from you so a deal's outta the question!"

"Really? Even if that deal was my word to leave you and your woman alone?" Kimblee asked confidently.

"Like hell I'd believe you!"

"I'd give you my word."

"Didn't you give your word to Kluge?"

"I may have made a business exchange with the man, but that hardly constitutes a binding contract. He paid me to find you and kidnap that Winry woman and bring her back to the Fortress. However, I've stumbled upon a far more fruitful opportunity. As an entrepreneur, I'd be a fool to pass it up."

"Entrepreneur." Ed snorted with disgust, revolted by how casual Kimblee made contract killings seem. The man really had no soul. "Just what are you getting at?"

"An exchange of information."

"A what?"

"Think of it as – how do the Americans say it? – you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

Ed remained silent, watching with sharp intent as Kimblee leisurely took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and dabbed at his still bleeding nose. He knew he couldn't trust the Hochroter Tod, no matter what the man was willing to offer. Still, a miniscule, illogical part of Ed's brain wondered hopefully if the exchange Kimblee was going to offer might very well be worth it if it meant keeping Winry safe.

Though he hated himself for it, Ed relaxed his posture and gave Kimblee a short, decisive nod, signaling that he was willing to listen to the man's proposition.

Kimblee chuckled, the sound hollow and chilling, and Ed already knew he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.

"I'm fully prepared to jump off this train and leave you and your merry band of refugees to go wherever you are going. I won't try to take your little girlfriend with me and I promise not to try and kill your brother or blow up this train. It will be like we never encountered each other, and I'm suspecting that you'd really, _really_ like that."

"Yeah, never having to see your ugly mug would make my day. So what's the equivalent exchange, then?"

"Equivalent exchange?" Kimblee parroted.

"What do I have to give you to get you to leave?" Ed demanded.

While Zolf Kimblee might not know a thing about the laws of alchemy, Ed was well aware that this world also worked by following the same guidelines that governed Amestris. Since his childhood, Edward had memorized the laws of alchemy, engraving them into his memory and following them faithfully like religious dogma. The world revolved around the principles of give and take, destroy and create, of equal trade.

Kimblee's offer was just another example of that fundamental principle.

The cart was quiet for long, black minutes as Ed waited, sweat gathering around his neck and down his back. His teeth ground together and his eyes strained to remain focused with unblinking intent on the killer before him. If Kimblee didn't speak soon Ed wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop himself from leaping over the crates that separated them and beating the answer out of the man.

"I want the uranium bomb." Kimblee stated suddenly, his cool request shattering the silence.

Ed went pale and balked, wishing there was someway he could kick his own ass. He had suspected he wouldn't like Kimblee's bargain, but like a fool he had hoped that there would be some way to reach an agreeable compromise. However, just as nothing could ever equal Winry, nothing could ever be equal exchange for that damned bomb.

"No deal." Ed declared. "What would you want with it, anyway?"

"Well, it is a bomb." Kimblee said slowly.

"No shit, it's a bomb. It's the most powerful bomb in this world. If that thing is detonated it could take out a whole city."

"Exactly!" Kimblee cried, the expression on his face going twisted and deranged. A vein at his temple began to bulge, sweat trickled down his brow and mingled with the trails of blood around his nose and chin. His eyes were wide and slightly narrowed, the black of his pupils blending in with his dark irises so that they were one small speck of color against the white.

Ed braced himself, seriously concerned that Kimblee had lost all sense of reality. His face was crazed, lips snarling and teeth bared like an animal, displaying the true colors of his savage personality.

"I don't expect a humanitarian like you to understand the true potential of that bomb. Only a man of my imagination could ever put that masterpiece of weaponry to its most splendid purpose."

"Killing people?!" Ed screamed, horrified and furious.

"Not just any people." Kimblee replied conspiratorially as he stared down at his empty hands, imagining the bomb was cradled in his eager palms. "Oh no, I have a very specific list of people that I intend to tear apart with that bomb."

"You're sick!" Ed gagged.

"Don't judge me so cruelly, at least not until you know who I intend to use the bomb on." Kimblee tutted.

"It doesn't matter. Killing's killing, no matter who it is." Ed decried, though his noble words were just as much for himself as they were for the Hochroter Tod.

With every word the man spewed, every gesture the man made, Ed felt an incredible, lightning-like desire to snap Kimblee's neck and be done with him. This blatant bloodlust horrified and thrilled Ed, who had never killed unless it was out of complete necessity, and even then, the shame of taking human life had never left him. He carried the faces of those he had killed in his memory, a chain that served as the perfect choke collar to keep him restrained when the adrenaline of total terror took over.

But the Hochroter Tod was a completely unique situation. If Kimblee wasn't killed, the man would go on to leave a trail of death and bodies behind him. It would do humanity a great service to see Kimblee dead, and Ed had even brought up the possibility of having to slay the mercenary earlier at the hotel.

However, unlike Kimblee, Edward Elric had a conscience. To take another human life, to add another face to that heavy chain around his neck, was a brutal form of self-inflicted torture and yet…Winry's life was in danger, and Al's and Eddie's and everyone else that he loved. While the choice was great and the consequences damning, Ed decided that there was no other option but to take on the responsibility of another death.

Zolf J. Kimblee had to be killed.

"You're a simple man, aren't you?" Kimblee scoffed, his posture far too relaxed to be discussing mass murder. "I told you, I intend to use that bomb towards a good purpose."

"What could…"

"After all, when you blow up the Reichstag, you should do it in style." Kimblee chortled, very obviously impressed with his scheme and expecting Ed to show just as much appreciation.

"Hardly original." Ed snorted. "I think a man named Guy Fawkes tried to blow up his country's parliament over three hundred years ago. He never succeeded and I'm sure you know what happened next."

"Ah yes, execution by hanging. But don't forget, Edward, I've already been executed once. Besides, I'm not looking for originality. I only want revenge."

"Revenge? What could a bunch of stuffy old farts in parliament have done to you?" Ed snapped.

"Everything!" Kimblee growled. "Everything! Before the war, I was trained to be a top ranking assassin; a _perfect_ soldier. I followed every order without question. I never ran from my duty, I never took more than was my due, and I became exactly what they wanted me to be. And then the war ends and suddenly the world demands reparation. Money isn't enough, an apology doesn't satisfy them, and so, a sacrifice is made. Every one of those men, politicians, bureaucrats, that fucking pussy chancellor, they served me up like a plucked goose. Does that seem fair? All those men…they were much more responsible for the war than me, and even then, I was just following orders."

"Don't make yourself out to be a martyr. You like killing."

"As if that matters! I loved my job and I did it well and in the end I was put on the chopping block. That constitutes revenge, I think." Kimblee proclaimed.

"And what about Kluge?" Ed asked.

"What about him?"

"He wants the bomb. He won't take kindly to you just running off with it."

Kimblee laughed, a hearty and spastic chuckle that was equal parts mirth as it was crazed. "I hardly care what Kluge thinks. That bastard's just lucky that I don't plan on killing him along with the rest of the Fat Cats. He did get me out of jail, so I suppose a little gratitude on my part is necessary. I won't kill Kluge…unless he tries to stop me." Kimblee paused a moment, letting his words fill the empty space of the room, giving Ed the chance to absorb his plan and rethink his refusal to hand over the uranium bomb. When the young man didn't answer, Kimblee's cool demeanor began to wrinkle, his brows furrowing and his arrogant grin slowly shifting into a neutral straight line.

Why wouldn't this stupid boy understand?!

"I wasn't executed because of what I did, but for what those hypocrites were too humiliated to admit. Do you really want riffraff like that running this country, a country which is a pathetic stink-hole because of the choices they made? Give me the bomb, Edward, and I'll do all of Germany of great service."

"You're a monster." a soft, breathy voice gasped, breaking the resounding tense silence that had floated in the air between the two men.

"Winry!" Ed hissed. "Get out!"

"Ah, the lovely Miss Winry. Please, come in and talk some sense into your man. I just made him a once-in-a-lifetime offer, but his overbearing sense of nobility is impeding his judgment."

"He wants the bomb to blow up parliament!" Ed shouted.

"And I'm fully prepared to leave you two lovebirds alone." Kimblee added, throwing Winry a charming smile. He believed that the pretty young woman should be fully aware of what was at stake before she made her decision. An agreement to this exchange meant her life. Surely she wasn't as dignified as her foolish lover.

"No." Winry answered firmly without even a moment of hesitation. The smile Kimblee had graced her with quickly shifted into a disappointed frown.

"Too bad."

"Winry, leave!" Ed yelled, charging Kimblee as quickly as he could, racing over crates and luggage to reach the man. With a bored roll of his eyes, Kimblee moved to catch Edward in the middle of his jump, spinning the man around and throwing him to the floor with a hard thump.

"Ed!" Winry cried out, but the golden eyed youth was already back on his feet, kicking Kimblee in the gut and getting in a few punches.

"Leave, woman!"

"Here!" Winry cried, throwing her wrench into the air, for the first time with the intent for Ed to catch it in his hand and not his skull. Distracted by the glint of the tool out of the corner of his eye, Ed left himself open for Kimblee's retaliation.

The punch got him directly in the face, forcing his neck to snap sharply to one side. Ed let out a strangled grunt as he fell back, not knocked out, but momentarily out of the fight. Kimblee took advantage of the opportunity and picked up a heavy travel case, throwing it with pristine accuracy at Winry. In the cramped space there was little room for her to avoid being struck.

"Oof!" Winry cried, the case having hit her hard in the chest, forcing her back and into an unsecured pile of luggage. When she hit the ground, the bags and satchels she had crashed into toppled down, her whimpers indicating that she was now pinned by the cases.

Kimblee sneered.

One down, one more to go.

Kimblee had expected that the time and energy it took to knock Winry down would be all that Edward needed to regain his footing and launch another assault, but he couldn't deny his shock of surprise at the speed with which Ed attacked. The twenty-three year old slammed into Kimblee's body like a raging bull, looping his arms around the man's waist and lifting him into the air as he charged for the nearest wall.

The wind was knocked out of Kimblee, his head snapping back and banging against the wall of the compartment. Ed threw a few more punches, none of which Kimblee tried to block. Hitting him the ribs and gut, Ed pulled away from Kimblee and watched as he sagged down the wall, barely acknowledging that the man's body caught on the unloading side door's lever and unlocked it, the whoosh of the flap sliding open nothing more than a strange echo in Ed's ears.

He turned away from Kimblee and raced for Winry. She was struggling to pull herself out of the baggage pile, having managed to free her upper body.

"I told you to leave!" Ed yelled as he began to haul all manner of suitcases off of her. "Why don't you ever listen to me?!"

"Look out!"

There was no time to react. The moment Winry's warning left her mouth a sharp, shattering pain spread down Ed's head from the top of his crown like an raw egg yolk. Stars flashed behind his eyes, his body shuddered as if caught in the violent grip of a seizure, and then he went limp before crumpling to the floor in a heavy, defeated heap.

"ED!" Winry wailed, horrified at seeing him collapse. The hollow sound of half-amused laughter forced her to look up.

Kimblee was looming over the pair, grinning toothily. Without a care, he dropped the wrench he had used to strike Ed to the floor beside the crumpled man before bending down to grip Winry's arms and force her roughly out of the luggage pile and onto her feet.

"Thanks for the wrench, doll." Kimblee said. "And thanks for saving me the trouble of having to tear this train apart trying to find you."

"He won't give you the bomb, even if you have me." Winry declared proudly.

"No, I don't think he will, but he might give Kluge the bomb." Kimblee admitted, making it clear that, since Edward refused to make a deal, he intended to carry out Kluge's original plan. "I'll just steal the bomb from him once Edward delivers it to the Fortress."

Disgusted by the mercenary's single-minded drive, Winry struggled, trying to break free of Kimblee's grip, digging her feet into the floor as he dragged her towards the open side door.

"I won't go without a fight." Winry warned, twisting her body in another wretched attempt to break free of Kimblee.

"Good." the dark haired man sneered. "It isn't any fun if you don't struggle. And maybe, once you've given up," Kimblee whispered, catching Winry's neck in his right hand as he forced her close to his face, "I could take my time teaching you about real men. After all, Kluge didn't say anything about damaging the goods."

Winry choked on the insult she was ready to spew, instead letting her body speak for her. Winry head-butted Kimblee as hard as she was able, hitting his broken nose with her brow, giving him a jolt of reborn pain, and herself a headache. Still, Winry had to take her chance, using that split second of shock to pull back and deliver a devastating kick to the knee she had struck earlier with her wrench. Her heel connected with the fracture, likely cracking the bone further if not completely breaking it. Kimblee howled, but his grip did not slacken as Winry had hoped. Instead, the lithe killer slapped her hard across the face, cruelly releasing her so that she could fall back from the force of the blow.

Winry crashed hard into the crate that had been busted open under Ed's tumble earlier. Pain exploded on the left side of her face, her eye feeling as if it would pop out of the socket. She was dizzy, the movement of the train agitating her spinning vision. Suddenly, pin prickles of pain encircled Winry's skull and she felt her neck being forced back at an unnatural angle.

"Enough of that, sweetheart." Kimblee grumbled, pulling on her long blond hair to force her to her feet.

"She's not your sweetheart!"

Kimblee found himself being thrown back again by Edward who, quite miraculously, had regained consciousness. Both men fell to the floor, rolling and tussling until Ed was straddling Kimblee, the man's neck dangling out of the open side door and over the edge. Landscape swooshed by in a nightmarish blue-black blur, the air rustling around Ed's head and nearly making him loose his focus.

"Get out of here, Winry!" Ed ordered again, his voice hoarse and dry.

"Let me help!" Winry insisted, using the crate she had landed on to hoist herself up.

"Dammit Winry, just leave!" Ed demanded, punching Kimblee in the face before pushing off the man so that he could make his way towards the infuriating woman. Suddenly, the train lurched, causing all three adults to loose their balance. Winry fell back onto the broken crate while Ed was thrown to his knees.

"My, my, quite a bumpy ride." Kimblee joked, the jostle having pushed him further off balance so that he was literally dangling out of the cart, one hand clutching at the wall the only thing keeping him from falling off the train.

"Don't you ever stop?!" Ed yelled in exasperation.

"I'll never stop." Kimblee promised, his words strong and pronounced like a personal credo. He meant that statement and the truth that reverberated in those words made Ed go pale, knowing it would be impossible to get away.

There was only one way out…

"Ed, don't move!" Winry instructed imposingly, her voice hard and commanding. The simple change in her tone was enough to make Ed pause, but the ear-splitting blast that rattled throughout the compartment left him frozen in startled terror.

Everything moved so quickly that it took a few minutes for Ed to realize exactly what had happened. He felt the bullet speed past him, rushing mere inches from is left arm and moving so quickly that it felt as if a slim string of his flesh had been burned. There was the thumping sound of impact followed by the wet spatter of liquid as it was violently expelled, like a geyser. And before Ed could move, or speak, or even blink, Kimblee was gone, having fallen back and out of the train when a bullet struck him perfectly in the hand that was his only anchor to the compartment.

Ed gasped, unsure if the empty space he was seeing was truly real or if he was hallucinating. He looked out though the doorway, watching the dark landscape whiz by and even spotting a boarder sign that announced that the train had crossed over into France. Trees, bushes, farms and a few lights from a distant village blurred together to create a strange, abstract vision. His eyes went out of focus as his mind caught up with everything that had just happened.

Kimblee was gone.

He had fallen off the train.

Someone had shot Kimblee to force him off the train.

But Ed didn't have a gun, which meant…

Ed couldn't imagine how it could be, but his focus shifted to the part of the wall that Kimblee had been holding on to, noting the little bit of blood that dotted the wood and he knew there could be no other explanation. Holding his breath, Ed turned around.

And there was Winry, standing erect and solid, her legs braced against the broken crate, an angry red welt swelling the left side of her face, and her eyes as clear as he had ever seen them, hard and strong.

He was so consumed by her intense beauty that he barely noticed the smoking revolver in her hands.

* * *

_France_

_4. Oct. 28_

***

Ed stared at Winry in complete shock. The rattling of the open side door was lost to the thunderous volume of the twenty-three year old's haphazard thoughts as he stared at the woman he loved hold a smoking gun with the same intense control as a seasoned sniper. Winry was standing straight and cool, her blue eyes betraying nothing of her own emotions, her fingers calm and sure as they held the gun. She was a warrior woman, an Amazon born from the dark jungles of South America and thrust into his life like a rigid guardian angel.

It hadn't skipped Ed's notice that Winry had managed to fire just mere inches away from his left side, leaving him completely unscathed. It was also obvious that Winry hadn't killed Kimblee, shooting him cleanly through the palm of the hand that was keeping the mercenary anchored to the train. The fall wouldn't have likely killed the Hochroter Tod either, though it might have broken a few of the man's bones.

Only a person who was professionally familiar with all manner of firearms could have made such an accurate shot with no loss of life. That sort of marksmanship took a great deal of control and discipline and power.

Ed gulped, a surging molten heat tinged with traces of adrenaline and admiration racing from his heart and pumping into every last cell in his body, collecting heavily in the pit of his stomach and dropping lower.

"Ed, could you close the door?" Winry asked breathlessly, her chest heaving hurriedly as if she had just emerged from the icy depths of a dark river. Ed couldn't bring himself to answer, simply turning around and doing as Winry asked, clicking the large door closed, the sound of the latch dropping ringing in his ears.

"Where'd you learn to shot like that?" Ed asked, wondering if Winry had even heard him, for his voice was very hoarse.

"Miss Riza taught me during the war. I made her show me how to do it without ever having to kill."

Ed simply nodded, needing a moment for his mind to absorb this new information. He had never imagined Winry as the type to handle a firearm, but the fact that she could, that she had saved him and had done so without taking another human life left his blood pounding in his ears.

She was amazing.

Finally he turned back to face Winry and watched as she lowered the gun, her arms seemingly weighed down by such a heavy burden. Still, she maintained that trained control over the firearm, opening the revolving chamber to remove the remaining bullets before placing them and the gun on a nearby crate. Then she raised her head and captured his gaze.

Blue met gold and that was all it took.

Ed didn't have a chance to move before Winry catapulted herself into his arms, pushing him back roughly against the wall. Ed's head banged against the wood, but then Winry was kissing him, her lips wet and open, and suddenly Ed's bump didn't matter. He looped his hands around the back of her head, squishing his fingers in her thick, slightly damp hair, keeping her mouth fastened to his as she slipped her tongue past his lips and into his mouth. She tasted him ravenously, rushed and desperate, her fingers tearing into his hair and ripping out a few golden tresses in her haste to free them from Ed's ever-present ponytail. Her nails scraped along his scalp, causing tingles to ripple across the young man's fevered flesh.

Ed pulled his mouth away from Winry, ignoring her vicious growl as he moved to curve his fingers under her blouse collar. He didn't ask and he certainly didn't feel sorry when he pulled brutally on the cotton and the material ripped easily, the top two buttons snapping free and falling somewhere forgotten on the floor around them.

Winry gasped at Ed's rushed and careless act, but before she could speak his lips latched on to her neck, sucking so hard on the sizzling flesh that he left angry red marks over her pulse-point. He kissed a trail of wet caresses lower, tasting the salt of Winry's skin when he touched the sensitive area between her breasts, hearing her heart hammer wildly and falling in love with the keening purr that spilled like a melody from her lips.

"No." Winry sighed, arching herself away from Ed's maddening kisses. She took his wrists in her hard, vice-like grip, forcing them against the wall and above his head. Ed caught his breath at being captured in such a vulnerable position, and though he was fairly sure he could break out of Winry's grasp, he was too turned on to try. He watched her with unblinking fascination, the sweet musk of her breath, the scent of her hair, and the flush of her skin combining to send him into a crazed frenzy of want.

"Win…" Ed whined, pressing forward to kiss her and biting back a curse when she refused to allow the sweet connection. They were both together and alive when they had been so close to separation and death. They had to touch each other, feel skin and taste sweat and simply revel in the heat of their bond until they combusted. Ed danced willingly in the fire, knowing Winry was eagerly at his side. So why was she teasing him?!

"I'm the one calling the shots." Winry instructed breathlessly. "We do this my way."

And with that ragged declaration, Winry moved to straddle Ed as best she could within the confines of her skirt and proceeded to kiss him mercilessly, biting at his lips, licking his jaw in small, shyly heated strokes, and finally coming to suck on his earlobe. Ed grunted, unable and unwilling to control the blaze that took hold of his body. He was completely at Winry's mercy. She held him open and defenseless, pressing her body against his in a delicious torture.

Winry kissed along the column of his throat, sucking and biting, not shy about leaving her mark on her man's skin. The rush of feeling him hot and alive under her lips left her in a near swoon and when she began to sink down to the floor, Ed followed. Within moments Ed's back was pushed against the wall as Winry straddled his lap. Consumed by how close they were, Ed pulled his wrists free of Winry's grip, an escape she willingly agreed to so that her fingers could get lost in Ed's unbound hair.

Sitting astride Ed had forced Winry's skirt to ride up her legs until it was bunched up around her hips and Ed took full advantage of the new flesh exposed to him. Still wrapped tantalizingly in the stockings she hated so much, Ed caught his breath as his hands ran up Winry's legs. The nylon made them feel cool and slick, like her skin was made from satin. As his hands trailed up higher and curved to appreciate the soft bounty of her inner thigh, one of his seeking fingers found a hole.

The moment the pad of Ed's finger discovered that single circle of Winry's skin, warm and unimaginably soft, both partners gasped in the dark. Winry's back arched and stiffened, pushing her thigh further into Ed's hand.

The young man didn't need to be told twice.

Without hesitation, Ed forced three more fingers into the small run in the stockings and pulled, chuckling with male satisfaction when the material ripped free of its bindings around that one, perfect thigh. When a palm-sized portion of flesh was exposed, Ed cupped her skin and squeezed.

"Ah!" Winry gasped, leaning heavily into Ed's solid frame, her head coming to recline on his automail shoulder. Ed moved to kiss Winry's ear and hair as his hand continued to work its hot magic, caressing and pinching her thigh, his fingers moving teasingly high up, very nearly brushing the apex of her core before pulling back. Winry whined and followed Ed's fingers, dropping her body lower than she had expected and brushing against his erection.

Both adults stilled in the dark compartment, Ed pushing himself tightly against the wall, both of his hands retreating to Winry's hips, but whether it was to push her away or hold her in place was a concept the young man's mind couldn't process. It felt as if electricity had struck the tip of Ed's cock and surged through his body, leaving him paralyzed in a state of vicious passion. His fingers dug into Winry's hips and he waited with held breath to see what she would do.

Winry was trembling, only able to take in shallow breaths as all of her attention was trained on the man beneath her. She could feel him – that _part_ of him – hard and heated and snug between her legs. Her belly became a tight knot of anxious, unsettled want that threatened to split her apart.

But it felt so wonderful!

She never wanted the feeling to stop.

She hadn't even realized she'd bucked against Ed until he gasped her name and that incredible pressure pulsed in her most sensitive area. Gripping onto Ed's shirt collar, Winry locked eyes with the man under her. His gaze was molten gold, as hot and flushed as his cheeks. He was beautiful, an Adonis of gold and flesh and he was looking at _her_.

He wanted her.

But Winry was confused, her mind fuzzy with all that she was feeling. Not only did she love Ed wholeheartedly, but she wanted him in a primal physical sense that had never once obsessed her thoughts as they currently were. She was grateful and ecstatic that he was alive, furious that he stubbornly fought Kimblee alone, wanting to both tear him to shreds and hold him close to her heart. She was completely overcome, not knowing what she should do, only certain that she didn't want this strange, frightening and exciting fire to extinguish.

"What do I do?" she asked breathily, far too consumed by desire to worry about appearing vulnerable and inexperienced. Her body was craving something that she didn't understand,

Ed guided her.

Hips still caught in his hard grip, Ed pulled at Winry, forcing her to rub against his cock again, showing her how to grind along his length and gain not just her own pleasure, but his as well.

Winry's mouth fell open, but no sound came out. She threw her head back and let Ed guide her again, completely overtaken by the sensations that charged every last nerve-ending in her body. Her back arched and her head fell back, giving Ed the perfect opportunity to kiss her exposed neck at his frenzied leisure. He needed to keep touching her, to give her that hot, slick delight that drove her to continue grinding against him in a harsh, sensual ballet.

Ed dipped his head and kissed Winry's breasts through her blouse, quickly finding a puckered nipple and biting it delicately enough to earn a low purr from the woman atop him. If possible, her back arched further, pressing her chest into Ed's mouth like a sacrificial offering. It was a gift Ed took greedily.

Winry dug her fingers into Ed's shoulders, continuing her movements along his body, her mind knowing only one thing: the feeling of Ed hot, hard and straining beneath her felt far too wonderful to stop. The strange tightening deep within her being was urging her on. It was as if she was possessed of all her most base and natural needs, climbing higher and higher to a perfect place of bliss that she had never been or seen or experienced yet knew instinctively was there. Blinded by all she was feeling, desperate to see this painfully wonderful tension splinter, Winry rocked harder, pressing her pelvis so close to Ed's that she thought she might break a bone in her inexperienced frenzy.

She couldn't find it in herself to care.

She just needed finally reach that explosive end.

And then, without warning, she made it, her entire body burning up and twisting into a tense contortion, her legs lifting her off Ed's lap, back arching, arms pulling to her sides so that she was kneeling prone and exposed. A harsh keening noise erupted from her throat, sounding like a person both living and dying in the same breath. Her body relaxed just as suddenly as it had stiffened and if Ed had not been holding onto her hips she would have collapsed uncomfortably into a boneless heap.

Winry trembled, more aware of her body, mind and heart than she had ever been before. She felt alive and exhausted, wanting to immediately leap into a new automail project with invigorated creativity, but at the same time she wanted to curl up around Ed and fall into a sated slumber with his warmth as her only blanket.

Ed watched Winry writhe in the wake of her climax. She had never looked more beautiful in his eyes and he wanted to hold on to this image of her forever. Although he was still hard and needy, Edward wanted to relish the moment before making the seductive suggestion that Winry help him to fall over the edge.

"That's never happened to me before." Winry gasped, her breasts heaving as she tried to take in as much oxygen as possible. The fuzz that had been clogging her brain was lifting, making the woman appreciate all the more the way her whole body tingled. Her skin felt warm and wonderful and she found herself chuckling tiredly. "I didn't even know that could happen." she admitted shyly, surprised that she could still blush after what she had just done.

"Pretty sweet, huh?" Ed said, gently righting Winry so that she was now facing him. That was when he saw the bruise on her left cheek and the reality of what he and the woman above him had just lived through struck him in the gut. Suddenly, Ed's unfulfilled ardor drained as the fight with Kimblee flashed through his memory.

He really had come close to losing her. It was a fortunate twist of fate that Winry's years of habitually beating Ed over his skull with all manner of projectiles had actually offered the young man a thin form of resistance and quick rejuvenation to a hit over the head. He also begrudgingly admitted that he likely had a concussion and should seek treatment for the several bruises and odd cuts that dotted his body.

Winry also needed to be cared for.

Raising his automail hand, Ed slowly reached up to touch Winry's swollen cheek, barely brushing the metal fingers along the skin. Winry hissed but leaned in gratefully to Ed's touch, appreciating the cold relief of his automail.

"Thanks." she said softly, though whether it was for the cold compress or her first orgasm Ed wasn't sure.

Noting how her eyes shimmered like stars and her skin flushed with satisfaction, Ed easily made up his own mind.

"What about you?" Winry asked, her hands cupping his face and slowly trailing down his chin and neck.

"I'm fine. A bump on the head that should get looked at, but otherwise…"

"No. I mean…" Winry never finished her sentence, her blue eyes quickly darting down to Ed's lap before meeting his again. Ed followed Winry's glance before smirking.

"Don't worry about it." Ed said softly. The more he thought about Winry's injuries the more his erection was very nearly a thing of the past. His own body was also starting to remind Ed that Kimblee had beaten him fairly hard and while he could probably get back into a heated state of passion with a few kisses from Winry, he didn't even want to imagine the embarrassment he would suffer if he made a mess in his trousers and then had to face Al and Noa. "There'll be other times."

"Soon?" Winry asked and Ed barked out a chuckle at how eager she sounded.

"Soon." he promised.

Satisfied, Winry moved to stand, her knees actually quaking as she struggled to gain her balance. Ed felt his pride cloak him like armor, an urge to pound his chest like an alpha beast nearly taking a hold of his senses. Winry was flushed and weak and satisfied and it was because of him.

Ed got to his feet and kissed Winry's brow.

"Uh, Winry?" Ed asked as he watched her slightly wobble across the compartment to pick up her discarded wrench.

"Mmm?"

"Where did you get a gun, anyway? I know you don't carry one…"

"From that crate." Winry answered, tucking her found tool into her coat pocket and pointing towards the broken crate. Ed looked at the splintered box, rubbing his side as he recalled his hard tumble into it. Curious as to why a revolver would be in a crate, Ed walked towards the broken box and pulled back what was left of the lid and peered inside.

He gasped, frozen to the spot at what he saw.

Guns. Revolvers, shotguns, machine guns, and repeating rifles were packed together in a thin heap of straw in the crate. The jumbled mass they were in could have resulted from either Ed's fall or hint at a hasty packaging.

"Oh my God." Winry gasped, coming to stand at Ed's side. "I didn't know the whole crate was full of them. When Kimblee slapped me and I fell my hand slipped in the crack and I felt the revolver."

"This isn't right." Ed muttered to himself, examining the crate thoroughly, his golden eyes falling on that French stamp he had noticed was inked on several of the crates when they had boarded the train. While Ed's French was limited, he understood the words printed on the cheap wood. "Les Fournitures De Nettoyage." he said.

"What does that mean?" Winry asked.

"Cleaning supplies?" Ed whispered, not answering Winry's question as much as he was talking to himself. Turning to a similar pile of crates packed securely across the compartment, Ed marched to it and roughly ripped a few planks away from one of the boxes.

Straw and ammunition spilled out like innards.

Once again, the crate was stamped with the mysterious marking 'cleaning supplies'. Ed tore into another crate and bit back a curse when he found grenades.

"Ed, why are these here?" Winry asked. "I mean, this is a civilian train, isn't it? Why would anyone clear weapons like this to be transported on a train full of people? If there's an accident…I mean, one of those grenades alone could…"

"That son of a bitch. That…that bastard is unfucking believable!" Ed puffed, unable to scrounge up any energy to be a raging ball of indignation. He was so horrified by the situation that he had gone numb.

This was Kluge's shipment, the one Ed had been intending to follow before Hughes had informed him of the SS commander's change in delivery schedule.

'_Hughes had said Kluge moved the shipment date up from the fourth to the third but that he couldn't find any records of cargo trains leaving Freiburg…because there were only civilian trains leaving the city._' Ed realized, Quickly, he glanced at his wristwatch, noting that it was nearly one in the morning and he guessed that he and his family had jumped on the train at about eleven-thirty. That would make this train to Paris the last one to leave Freiburg on October third.

Ed felt like he was going to be sick. At a glance, he could count at least eight crates marked with the 'cleaning supplies' stamp. Kluge had packed the civilian train with all manner of concealed weapons, smuggling them across the boarder and into Paris for a purpose Ed did not know but could guess was deplorable.

'_The man doesn't give a damn about human life._'Ed thought, swallowing the urge to gag. Kluge really was a tarnished and wicked man and whatever he was doing with these weapons had to be stopped.

"Ed? Are you alright?" Winry asked, gently gripping his automail hand. Ed slipped out of her comforting touch and moved towards the door that lead to the other train compartments.

"We should go find Al and the others. Eddie's probably having a fit."

"Sure, but Ed…"

"I'm fine, Winry." Ed answered quietly, refusing to look her in the eye. His sudden change in body language was making Winry nervous and when she tried to hold his hand as they walked through the train searching for Al, Noa and the kids, only for Ed to shrug her off again, the young woman knew something was seriously wrong.

And Edward, being his usual brooding self, wasn't about to talk to her. But he had promised not to keep any secrets from her, so he would tell her what the mystery behind the crates full of weapons was in due time.

He had to.

She just had to be patient.

* * *

_So, can you feel the rising suspense? We all know that the next chapter is going to be very intriguing and thrilling. I promise it will be. _

_Now, I'm guessing that there might be some controversial feelings concerning Winry actually handling and using a gun. For the record, I am a huge fan of FMA chapters 46/7 where Ed argues with Winry over the moral issues of taking up a weapon. I love that chapter, and I love Ed's speech about the power of Winry's hands, so I don't want anyone to think I didn't consider that when writing this chapter. However, I stress once again that five years and a civil war have separated Ed and Winry and, at twenty-three, I consider Winry as a younger, much less intense version of Riza Hawkeye. After all, she is the one who taught Winry how to shoot._

_I hope no one is too terribly upset and that they merely enjoyed this compelling character development. _

_On a more personal note, if you have been one of the many wonderful people who have left a review with this fic, then you are aware that I do my very best to respond to all of your comments. However, I do receive a fair amount of anonymous reviews, many of which I wish to respond to. In order to achieve that, I have decided to post my responses to these reviewers in my ending Author's Notes._

_And here they are:_

_**roseofsharron28**__: Here is your update! Hope you've enjoyed it!_

_**Twin_Alchemist**__: Thank you so much! I strive to the point of madness to keep these beloved characters in-character, so I'm very pleased that you've caught on to that and are enjoying this fic. And fear not, I refuse to allow this fic to become one of the masses of incomplete works. It will be finished in the near future, I promise you._

_**Alchemechanist**__: Oh my! Well, thank you so much. I'm humbled and flattered and hope that I continue to live up to your expectations. Thank you for sticking with this fic!_

_**Dreamer**__: Glad you didn't mind the wait. I reiterate my promise, you won't have to wait that long again for an update. And you're right about Kimblee, he won't be easy to get rid of, but it might happen…eventually. _

_**to lazy to sign in**__: Glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you've enjoyed this one._

_Thanks again to everyone! And now, I humbly ask you again, to leave a review with this latest chapter. Let me know your thoughts, and don't be shy! No flames, please and thank you!_

_Best regards!_

**Giant Nickel**


	18. Le Trou

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, not even one little golden hair on Edward Elric's head._

**A/N:**_ Here is the next chapter. This is leading up to the big confrontation between all of our favorite players, so there is plenty of suspense and building tension and lots of description. I must extend a very grateful 'thank you' to all of you who have taken the time to review the previous chapter. Your support of my portrayal of Winry was warmly encouraging and while I had some doubts just before posting, I am now utterly positive that I made the right decision with writing Winry that way. On a side note, FMA: Brotherhood episode 22 is the 'your-hands-are-made-for-life' EdxWin moment that I absolutely adore! I thought it was well done, and it was breathtaking to see that moment animated. If you haven't seen it yet then get to the funimation website and watch it!_

_Now that I've had my little rant, you may now proceed with this fic._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Le Trou**

_France_

_4. Oct. 28_

***

It was just after nine o'clock in the morning by the time the train from Freiburg pulled into Gare Saint-Lazare station. A fine sheen of mist shrouded the grand French city, leaving a fierce chill that shook the core of any soul unfortunate enough to be caught out in such weather. Ed stiffly stepped down from the train, his automail arm aching again from the dampness in the air. He joined the rest of his family on the platform and shook his head at the sorry sight the group of eight made.

Al's arm was hanging in a makeshift sling Winry had constructed from his coat sleeve, the shrapnel in his shoulder removed, the wound cleaned and dressed. All of the children had at least one bandage or wrapping on their bodies. Paz in particular had his entire head swathed in white bindings and Ruth was so distressed that she was bullying the boy into allowing her to watch over him like a coddling nurse. Yafit and Eddie only had minor scratches, but both tots were so exhausted that they had dark circles under their eyes and scowls pinching their features. They needed food and rest.

Lots of rest.

Despite the harrowing struggle with Kimblee, Ed and Winry faired well. They had black eyes and Ed was limping slightly while Winry complained of an aching back, but otherwise the pair was quite unscathed. Save for Winry's toolkit, there wasn't a single piece of luggage among the eight, their few items having been lost in Freiburg. It was lucky Alphonse kept both his wallet and all important papers in a secret pocket in his coat, otherwise the group would be without money or documentation. Noa had spent hours drawing up passports and adoption papers for Paz, Ruth and Yafit, and it was a relief that the work hadn't been lost, especially since the American families that had agreed to take in the children were due to meet them that very afternoon.

"Al, call the hotel, would 'ya?" Ed requested, his anxious golden eyes sifting through the crowd of commuters and travelers, easily spotting workmen in green overalls moving to unload the train.

"The Hôtel des Monnaies, right?" Al checked, shifting his injured arm.

Ed didn't even nod in acknowledgement and just walked away, swallowed by the number of people milling about the station.

"Ed?" Winry called, but she knew he wasn't hearing her. He had been acting distant and distracted throughout the entire night and it hurt the young woman so acutely that she found herself biting the inside of her cheek to keep from tearing up.

After what they had shared in the luggage compartment, victorious in the aftermath of Kimblee's defeat and glowing with adrenaline and attraction, Winry had never felt closer to Edward or further away.

He had kissed her ravenously and had brought her to a peak of unbelievable pleasure, teasing her with the promise to do so again. He had held her tenderly in the cramped booth on the long train ride into Paris, his chin resting atop her crown as his left arm rubbed soothing circles along her arm. Winry relished the physical closeness, feeling as if her body had somehow changed and was now hyper-aware, tingling from the heat that radiated off of Ed's body, yearning for his touch.

The sensations were new and wonderful, which made Winry's pain all the more sharp.

Ed was keeping a secret from her, and whatever it was, she knew it was important. Her body literally quivered with the anticipation of Ed's embrace, but it would never matter how physically close they were if they couldn't share an intimate, emotional connection.

She didn't expect him to tell her everything. After all, wasn't everyone entitled to privacy? But the important things, the things that kept one distracted and oblivious and obsessed, were the sort of secrets that had kept Ed and Winry apart for so many years. They had lost out on their chance to be together as innocent, inexperienced teenagers because a chasm of secrets and half-truths and lies separated them. Winry understood the mistakes of the past and had learned from them, laying her heart out, open and naked, for Ed to see, allowing him to either nurture or destroy her. She had forgiven Ed a great deal of his faults, but she knew she would splinter into a myriad of irretrievable pieces if he continued to hide serious matters from her.

She didn't know if she had any more absolution left in her heart for the golden eyed man.

"Winnie?" Eddie asked tiredly, pulling on the woman's skirt. "What we doing? I hungry."

"I know, sweetheart." Winry consoled, crouching down to hug the boy.

"Where'd Daddy go?"

Winry turned to look back in the direction Ed had gone in, unable to spot him among the crowd, but assuming he hadn't gone far. Ed wouldn't actually leave without telling someone. Unable to answer Eddie, Winry simply held the boy and kissed his worried brow.

And while Winry worried, Edward was only a few yards away from his family, pressed against a stone wall, a stolen newspaper held up over his face as he watched station workers unload the numerous crates stamped with the unsettling '_cleaning supplies_' label. The men were being fairly careful with the crates, though that did not necessarily mean that they were aware of what lay inside. Ed made his way closer to the train, watching the men set each of the special crates aside, seemingly unconcerned with them. Their behavior puzzled Ed, but not as much as the fact that the two crates that he had busted were miraculously repaired, though it was quite obvious that it had been done in great haste as Ed was able to easily note the stretched patches of raw leather and fresh boards that concealed the holes that would betray the secrets of the dangerous cargo.

Someone working for Kluge was on the train. It was the only explanation.

A familiar face suddenly appeared from the depths of the cargo compartment, confirming Ed's suspicions of an inside man working as a delivery boy. Though he was wearing green overalls and his hair was so long it had to be pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, Ed immediately recognized the portly figure of Heymans Breda's double. He was chewing on a piece of tobacco and his narrowed, annoyed expression was all the incentive the other handlers needed to give the man a wide girth. Ed watched closely as Breda wheeled a cleaning supplies crate towards the others, set the trolley aside, and then simply stood, hands clasped behind his back with a posture so rigid that it clearly identified him as a military professional. He swayed slightly on the balls of his feet, suggesting he was anxious as he waited, little hazel eyes shifting to the left, then the right, then back.

"Ed? Is everything OK?"

Startled, Ed whipped his head around and faced a pair of large, concerned blue eyes. Winry was standing at his side, Eddie slung comfortably in her arms, the boy's wig slouching slightly and allowing several strands of wispy golden hair to escape.

"I'm fine." Ed answered, quickly shifting his gaze to check on Breda and the crates before returning to regard Winry. She was frowning at him, her brows furrowed and teeth gnawing at the corner of her bottom lip.

"Ed…"

"How're you doing, buddy?" Ed asked, rubbing Eddie's back and earning a disgruntled moan from the three year old. Eddie's head was pillowed on Winry's shoulder, his face pressed snuggly against her warm neck. His eyes were barely open, and his mouth curled in disgruntlement.

"Hungry." the boy managed to croak before turning his face away from his father moodily. Ed smirked as he watched Eddie scratch at the dark wig, knowing that the boy was eager to remove the itchy disguise.

"Don't worry, we'll be out of here soon."

"Will we?" Winry asked eagerly.

"Of course!" Ed answered too cheerfully, flashing Winry a toothy grin brimming with false confidence.

"Ed, you remember what we talked about the night you told me about Manka? No more secrets."

"I remember." Ed mumbled, his expression immediately darkening as his eyes shifted again in the direction of the marked crates. He caught some movement, but didn't dare turn his face away from Winry as she spoke to him of the very promise he was breaking.

Winry caught Ed's subtle glance and followed the direction that his golden eyes kept shifting to, noting the marked crates that they had discovered in the luggage compartment. A leaden weight settled heavily in the young woman's gut as her suspicions about the weapons were confirmed. She had known Ed was acting strangely when they'd, literally, stumbled upon the secret arsenal. Those weapons bothered her simply for the fact that they were present on a civilian train, but Winry knew instinctively that Ed was troubled by the strange cargo for a reason he was refusing to put to words.

He was stubbornly holding onto his secret, and Winry was having trouble masking her distress.

"If there's something on your mind, you know you can talk to me." she offered, all subtlety lost as she made a final desperate attempt to stop Ed from breaking his promise to her.

"Brother." Al greeted as he, Noa and the three other children moved to join Ed and Winry.

"What is it, Al?" Ed asked, nearly sighing in relief at the convenient interruption. Winry, meanwhile, seemed to sag, her pallor going as grey as the weather.

"I called the hotel, and the families haven't checked in yet, but they left us a telegram that the concierge read to me."

"Yeah?"

"They've had to change their travel plans due to a heavy storm in New York City. They won't arrive in Paris until the ninth." Al recited.

"Oh?"

Al stared at his older brother with strange puzzlement, having never seen Ed so distracted unless he was perusing the pages of an alchemy tome.

"Ed?" Al called, giving the man a firm shake on the shoulder.

"Al, take everyone to Longstein's townhouse. There should be clothes and food there." Ed suggested, before turning around, giving his family his back. Al peered over his brother's shoulder and watched as a man with long rusty colored hair wheeled large wooden crates out of the train station. Al was confused about the scene and was about to ask Ed what the fascination was with a bunch of boxes when he noticed his brother was rapidly walking away, pushing between people as he chased after the stranger.

"Brother?!"

"Leave him, Al." Winry said, her voice strained.

"But Winry, what's he doing?" Al asked.

"Whatever it is, it's his business." Winry answered, sifting her fingers through Eddie's dark wig and burrowing her nose in the false tresses. Al's heart broke at the fallen vision Winry and Eddie made, both tired and hurt, standing alone, trapped in time as the world moved around them. They looked as if they had been abandoned, and the further Ed walked away from them, becoming consumed by the crowd, the more wretched they seemed.

Al pretended not to notice the few tears that slid down Winry's cheek and instead moved to direct the family out of the station and quickly hailed a taxi. He only spared one, fleeting glance back in the direction his brother had gone in, hoping that whatever Ed was chasing was worth hurting the ones he loved.

* * *

Ed bit back a curse as the truck plowed over another deep pothole in the road, his backside banging against the corner of the one of the crates. The ankle he had injured in Kimblee's explosion the night before began to throb, the pain pulsing up his leg with every beat of his heart. It had been foolishly impulsive to follow the Breda look-a-like out of the train station, watch as he loaded a tarp covered military truck and then, when no one was looking, jump onto the back of that vehicle. Ed knew he was being reckless, but the pressing need to know what Kluge was planning and the fear of loosing this rare and lucky opportunity pushed him onward.

Tucked away in a dark corner of the truck, Ed had waited while Breda and another man had finished loading all of the crates before ambling into the front of the lorry and driving away. The tarp flaps had been pulled down, offering Ed no chance to see where he was going, leaving the man alone in the dark with nothing but his cutting thoughts for company.

Winry knew.

Ed's heart lurched at the thought of how he was hurting her, of how he had literally deserted her and his son in the train station in favor of this rash mission.

As a state alchemist, Ed had felt a strong, revered obligation to follow the credo of '_Be Thou For the People_' and had been proud that he was able to use his skills to aid those in need. It was a compulsion that was a part of his being. Ed had to help others. He had to move forward, walk on his own legs and seek the truth. One could argue that it was this trait that had gotten Edward into more trouble in his short lifetime than even a seasoned warrior could claim. Knowing why Kluge was smuggling weapons into France, determining exactly what the man had planned, would no doubt save many lives. While the plight was foolish, Ed simply had to try, and if that meant jeopardizing his relationship with Winry, then it was no one's fault but his own.

He didn't want her involved.

Ed knew Winry almost as well as he knew his little brother, and while Alphonse was already caught up in the dangerous situation, there was no reason to include Winry.

Ed would have none of it.

She was already helping to secret the children out of the country, and that was as included as Ed wanted her. If she knew about the arsenal, about Kluge's strange stock hold, then her own overpowering curiosity and urge to help others would thrust her into the thick of the situation. And she could get hurt…

She could be killed.

Ed closed his eyes tightly, forcing the image of Winry's face out of his thoughts. His left hand clutched at his right wrist, the automail hidden under his sleeve and gloves. He took the greatest risk of his life by keeping this secret from Winry. If she found out…well, it could destroy everything.

It would probably destroy him.

But there were other things to think of.

Many people would be hurt if the Nazi party seized power over the German government. The world would become a darker place than anyone could ever fathom, unsafe and terrible. Ed thought of his brother and sister-in-law and how both would be severely persecuted, one for being a Roma and the other for marrying into such a bloodline. He thought of Winry and the worry of wondering if she would be snatched away and used as a weapon against him.

He thought of Eddie most of all.

Ed refused to see his child grow in a world ruled by men in black uniforms. He wouldn't allow his son to know the fear and terror and evil of such a reality.

Ed recalled his own childhood, growing up in an untouched valley of green and yellow, but the clouds of war had always hovered in that endless blue sky, reminding the elder Elric that, while Resembool was unblemished, the world around it was deeply troubled. It was those memories, when a wounded soldier would return to the town, or when rebels would set fire to the churches and train tracks, when farmers' crops would be confiscated to serve the army…when the telegraph had arrived to inform Winry of her parents' death, that still had the power to disturb Edward, reminding him that harsh reality can bleed into one's life and stain it red.

If he could help it, Ed wouldn't let that happen to his son.

He would protect every dream and hope, every wish and fancy of that beautiful little boy.

He would protect everyone.

The truck came to a jarring halt, successfully sending all of Ed's musings into the back of his brain. He had to move quickly. Rushing over the crates, Ed slipped out of the back of the truck and dove gracefully under the vehicle. Laying flat on his belly and ignoring the protests of his right ankle, Ed watched and listened as Breda and his partner began to unload the crates and drop them on the asphalt.

"Careful!" Breda cried.

"What? They gonna go off or something?" the younger man asked ignorantly. His comment earned him a sharp clap over the head.

"I'd like to see you explain yourself to the commander if his entire stock hold was reduced to shrapnel and useless scraps because of you carelessness. Weiz! Fauber!" Breda called.

"Sir!" two voices echoed from close by.

"Keep alert!"

And with that order, Breda and the other man hefted a crate into their arms and made their way around the truck and to an unknown destination. When they were clear of the truck, Ed took a chance and emerged from beneath the undercarriage, crouching low against lorry as he took in his surroundings.

Though Ed wasn't sure exactly where in Paris he was, the immediate area couldn't be anything but a condemned slum. Old stone houses and withered brick apartment complexes surrounded him. Broken windows and crumbling walls, unkempt sewage lines and all manner of vermin added to the grey atmosphere. There wasn't a single person to be found. The area was completely desolate save for the soldiers Weiz and Fauber who were standing guard alongside a building that looked as if it might have once been a workhouse.

Ed watched with fixated golden eyes as Breda and his underling carefully moved down what appeared to be cellar stairs and enter the building from a door at the bottom. There was no way Ed could follow them at the moment, not with the sun beginning to break through the clouds and two guards on the lookout. The cloak of night would be the better time to infiltrate, and if he brought his brother along then there would be no need to worry about the guards. Besides, he wasn't sure what, or who, was inside of that building and he was hardly in any condition to go charging in. He needed to rest and recover.

He would return after dark.

Memorizing the area, Ed decided to make a run for it, concentrating on the path he took so that he could retrace his steps later. He listened for following footsteps, but none came. Jumping over a crumbling wall, Ed passed a series of aged posters that had been scribbled on with charcoal.

Le Trou.

Ed couldn't help his smirk.

The place was aptly named.

* * *

Winry giggled as she watched Eddie toy with the automail hand. He was currently fascinated with the fingers, bending each digit one way or another and studying the inner workings and how they reacted to the movement.

"I like this." the three year old declared suddenly, offering Winry one of his golden smiles.

Fed and rested, Eddie was in much better spirits than he had been in the morning. The gang of seven had arrived at the three story townhouse just before eleven o'clock, having stopped briefly at a café to secure a well stocked meal, and then rushing to a food market to buy more supplies. Ed had claimed there was clothing at the townhouse, so no one bothered with purchasing fresh garments.

Almost as soon as they made it to the grand structure, the children had been sent to bed while the adults either napped or bathed. Winry found she was unable to sleep and so had taken a long, hot shower before wandering the house. She had found a few framed photographs on the hearth, nearly choking on her own surprise when she saw the stern face of Izumi Curtis staring back at her.

Al had joined her soon after, confirming that the Longstein woman that he and Ed spoke of was indeed the double of their alchemy teacher. Like when she had first met this world's Maes Hughes, Winry was stunned to see the face of a deceased love one. Even Alphonse admitted to his shock at meeting his teacher's double, but he assured Winry that Izumi Longstein (she had selected to keep her maiden name even after marrying Seeg Curtis) was just as cutting and hard-edged as the woman they had known. It had warmed Winry's heart to know that Izumi's double was alive and healthy and, apparently, quite the thriving real estate mogul. She owned several properties all throughout Europe and as she was a firm disciple of the Elrics' cause against the Nazi party, she offered her aid by means of providing safe houses for the brothers and their refugees to dwell in.

Winry hoped that, one day, she would get to meet the woman.

The rest of the early afternoon had passed by in a slow, casual way. The clouds had thinned and the sun was shinning dully through, warming the moist air. Al and Noa had retreated to the back garden, going over the children's adoption papers and making plans for how to fill the unexpected five extra days they would have with the young ones.

Winry had been in the process of making an apple pie when Eddie wandered into the kitchen, the automail hand in his grip. Glad for the company, Winry had rolled out the dough and peeled and cored the apples while Eddie played with the machinery. Every time he asked her a question, Winry would have to steel her emotions, hearing far too much of Edward in his son's high, little voice.

It was near impossible not to think about Ed and the fact that he had been gone for close to four hours. She was having difficulty reconciling her hurt, worry and growing agitation.

He had run away because of his secret involving the crates full of weaponry, still refusing to speak to her about what he was planning. Winry knew that those weapons had to be involved with something dangerous. It was the only reason she could come up with for why Ed refused to talk with her about them. She believed that Ed would tell her his secret…eventually, but she wasn't so sure that her patience could outlast his stubbornness.

"Winnie? Has Daddy asked you the question yet?" Eddie asked conversationally. Startled so much that she actually yelped, Winry dropped the pearing knife and the apple she had been peeling. Looking over at the boy, Winry was swallowed up by the child's large golden eyes, her worry and anger somewhat soothed by the boy's innocence. Forcing a smile, she turned back to her pie.

"Not yet."

"Oh." Eddie answered, disappointment clear in his voice. "Maybe he'll ask when he gets back!"

Ignoring the stagger her heart made at the hope in Eddie's voice, Winry simply nodded her head in agreement and returned to the task before her. She needed to focus on something else for a few hours. Determined not to think about Edward as she worked, Winry succeeded in nicking her fingers twice and rolling the dough too roughly, nearly scraping the whole project in her frustration.

As she grumbled to herself about her clumsiness, she never noticed that Al was watching her through the window from his spot outdoors, chuckling at her as she cursed the dough for being uncooperative. She made an interesting picture of domesticity, and Al found he could easily envision Winry working in her own kitchen back in Resembool, Eddie playing with a new puppy in the large front yard while Ed was in the sitting room reading one of his numerous alchemy texts.

His smile began to fade when he realized that his pretty imagining of the future didn't include himself. After all, it would his brother, Winry and Eddie that would make up the happy little family. There would be no space for him.

At least, that's how Alphonse felt.

Though Al knew that a bond would always connect him to his older brother and his best friend, he truly believed that they had finally reached that point in their lives where it was time to part. It pained him to think of that lost link. Still, at least he would have his memories of a relationship that had survived tragedy, distance, separation and two different dimensions. Perhaps now it was time to clutch onto his own life and bravely stride down his path alone.

Still, it would be nice to have some company.

"They're fine."

Al looked up, startled by Noa's graceful entrance back into the garden. She had left momentarily to check on the children.

"Paz and Yafit are still sleeping, but Ruth is awake." Noa reported, a giggle escaping her thin lips. "She's fussing over the pair like a mother hen. I've never seen Ruth so maternal."

"I think we have Paz to thank for that." Al said, his eyes fixated on his wife.

She wasn't doing anything in particular, merely sifting her fingers through her hair as she returned her attention to the passports and adoption documents spread out on the table. Her dark brown eyes shifted back and forth over the words, unaware of the intense study her husband was taking of her person.

Al was suddenly struck with the realization that he wasn't abandoned. He had his wife, a woman he loved and wanted very much to start a life with. She had told him once that she wanted to have his children one day, and Al blushed brightly when the wanton thought of getting started on making those babies invaded his imagination.

After all, Ed was with Winry, and perhaps seeing that had cooled the Roma woman's ardor for the elder Elric. The fact that she at least physically wanted Al gave the seventeen year old hope that, perhaps, she would come to love him through her lust. Though he had never actually made love before, Al was certain his passion for the exotic beauty would guide him.

"Alphonse, are you alright? You're flushed." Noa commented, reaching out with one dark hand to lay cool fingers along his cheek. "Is your shoulder bothering you?"

Al shook his head, rotating the shoulder in question to show her that his wound was not the case of his fluttering discomfort. It was her.

Her soothing touch only succeeded in flustering the young man further. He pulled on his collar uncomfortably, shying away from Noa's fingers before he was consumed by the flames of his bashfulness. She looked confused, but didn't question his quirkiness, once again returning her attention to the documents before her. Al was forced to turn away from her, taking deep breaths and mentally rehashing Newton's laws of motion until he had calmed his heartbeat.

Who was he kidding?! Al wasn't a brazen Casanova who could sweep a woman off her feet and onto her back. With Noa, it would never be just about sex. He loved her, and before he could take a serious leap into a real relationship with her he was going to be completely honest with his feelings.

And she would have to be honest with hers.

If she was still in love with Ed, then Al would have to find a way to move on. They had never once talked of Noa's feelings for the elder Elric. Al was honestly afraid to hear what she had to say. But it was time he work past his fear and seek the truth.

After all, he was an alchemist.

"Noa." Al started, his voice cracking.

"Mmm?"

"Noa, I want to ask you something. That is, I want to tell you something and ask you something and if you don't want to answer that's aright! But…um, I would really appreciate an answer and so…well…"

"What is it?" Noa asked, her voice traced with concern at the stammering seriousness of her husband.

"I care about you!" Al blurted out, cringing at how high and harsh his words had exploded from his mouth. He felt even more mortified when Noa blushed prettily and her eyes widened to twice their normal size. She looked just as she did the night he'd kissed her so abruptly.

Beautiful.

Licking his lips and swallowing his trepidation, Al pressed on.

"I care about you and…I'd like to see this marriage work. I mean, I want it to work the right way, and I need to know something first."

Al took Noa's hand in his, wondering at how soft her skin was, warm and alive under his fingers. He caressed her knuckles with his thumb, tracing small circles along her dark skin, finding himself easily relaxing when she squeezed his hand.

Locking eyes with her, Al smiled.

He could do this.

"Noa, do you love…"

"Dammit!"

Al nearly gagged on his own tongue when his brother, disheveled, dirty and very loudly flopped over the garden wall and fell onto his backside into a decorative bush.

"Oh Edward!" Noa gasped, quickly taking her hand out of her husband's and rushing to the fallen Elric's side. "Let me help."

Ed accepted Noa's aid, allowing her to pull him back to his feet and totter towards the little table where Al was still sitting, stunned at the inglorious interruption and battling with the joint desire to assure his brother was alright and pummel him into a fleshy mound. He was still angry that Ed had just deserted the family at Gare Saint-Lazare , and his butterscotch eyes narrowed as he stood up to greet his sibling.

"Brother, where were…"

"Not now. Not yet. Later." Ed said, clapping Al on the shoulder as he caught his breath. "I promise."

"Ed…" Al groaned, fed up with his brother's odd antics of the day.

"Something smells good." Ed said suddenly, sniffing the air like a ravenous dog. "Apple pie?"

"Go change, or take a shower first." Al suggested, but it was too late. Ed was already following his nose into the kitchen.

"Daddy!" young Eddie cried, leaping from his chair at the table and hurrying to his father. Ed took the three year old into his arms and swung him up in the air, peppering his cherubic face with playful kisses.

"Feeling better?" Ed asked as he put the child back on his feet.

"Yep. Come look at this!" Eddie insisted, dragging his father to the table where the automail hand was placed.

"Trying to turn my son into a grease monkey?" Ed joked. He had seen Winry standing at the counter when he entered the kitchen. She was wearing a blouse that was two sizes too big for her and a pair of slacks that made her rump look positively delectable. He was relieved and happy to see her. She hadn't turned to greet him yet, her shoulders held stiffly and her back working as a shield. Knowing she was angry with him, Ed walked up behind her, doing his best to calm his emotions.

"Listen!' Eddie demanded of the two adults as he took a dismembered automail finger and began to tap it rhythmically against the palm of the metal appendage. The harsh clank filled the kitchen like a broken symphony, the juvenile beats urging Ed forward until he tentatively wrapped his arms around Winry's middle and pulled her against his chest. She didn't resist, but she didn't lean into his embrace either, her hands braced on the counter, face looking straight ahead.

"I'm back." he announced sheepishly.

"I know. Where were you?" Winry asked, her voice quiet and broken. Ed frowned, knowing that if she did turn to look at him her eyes would be sparkling with frustrated tears.

"I was in the city." he answered.

"Where in the city?" Winry pressed.

"Hey! Are you listening?!" Eddie demanded temperamentally, slamming the metal finger against the table.

"We're listening, Eddie. Don't be so rough." Ed instructed and waited until his child began to happily bang on the automail before returning his attention back to the woman in his arms. She was still holding herself taut in the circle of his arms, wanting her answer. He took a moment to press his nose against her hair, inhaling the sharp, spicy scent of cinnamon.

He wanted to kiss her.

"Where in the city, Ed?" she repeated, pushing her shoulder blades against his chest, signaling that she wanted him to let her go.

He did.

"Later. I promise I'll tell you everything later." he reasoned, deciding that, after he had gotten the children off to their American families, after he had discovered Kluge's reason for smuggling weapons into France, after he had taken Winry and Eddie away from the danger, then he would tell her.

He just needed time and Winry's patience.

"Did you like it, Daddy?" Eddie asked when he noticed his father was leaving the kitchen.

"It was great, buddy." Ed complimented, patting the boy on the head. "I'm gonna go take a shower and a nap. Behave yourself."

" 'Kay!" Eddie called after his father. Winry waited until she heard Ed's footsteps on the stairs before allowing her body to collapse on itself. She refused to allow herself to fall into a heap on the floor, but her knees were weak and her body shook under the strain of the tight control she had forced upon herself when Ed had returned.

She wasn't sure she could describe what she was feeling, a strange mating of pain, sorrow, inadequacy and fiery anger gathering within her body like a black hole. She couldn't remember what it felt like to be happy in Ed's embrace, unable to recall if that ecstatic passion they had shared on the train was something real or merely a contrived dream.

She really didn't know if she was ready to discover Ed's secret, and she was even less sure if she would be able to remain with him when the deception had run its course.

Winry was so bothered by her depressing thoughts that she lost track of time.

She burned the apple pie.

* * *

Dr. Mauro tapped his pen nervously on the medical chart he was supposed to be filling out. His mind, however, couldn't concentrate on the black type and his aged, chocolate colored eyes were far more concerned with the closed door several feet to his right more than anything else in his little country clinic.

When the pig farmer, Grognard, and his son had ambled into Mauro's clinic in the early hours of the morning, the old doctor had expected the men to be coming with word that Grognard's wife was in labor with their twelfth child. He had nearly choked on his coffee when the withered farmers had entered the building bearing a mangled mess that looked as if it had once been a human being. Grognard had said that he and his eldest had discovered the battered body in a ditch along the train tracks not far from the boarder.

Broken nose, a fractured leg, broken ribs, cracked jaw, minor internal bleeding, several head abrasions and a bullet wound in his right hand had urged the good doctor into immediate action. Calling the few nurses that were available that early in the morning, they had worked tirelessly for three hours to stabilize the stranger, forced to cut his long black hair so that they could properly treat the contusions on the man's skull. A blood transfusion was required, minor surgery was performed to mend the internal bleeding, they reset the broken nose and quickly wrapped the damaged knee in a plaster cast. There were no bullet fragments found in the hand wound and so it was cleaned and stitched together. Throughout the series of little operations, the stranger had remained unconscious, and with the amounts of morphine that Mauro had injected into the man's system, he wouldn't be cohesive for quite some time.

Since the man was an unknown, Mauro had one of the nurses check his belongings for any form of identification. Nothing was discovered. No passport, train ticket or wallet was found in the man's clothing save for a scrap piece of paper with a telephone extension scribbled on the grainy surface. When it was certain that the John Doe was stable, Mauro ordered one of his nurses to contact the number. When the nurse had informed him that the extension was for a residence in Germany, Mauro was hard pressed to mask his disgusted horror.

Having served as a medic during the Great War, Mauro had seen the atrocities man committed against man. Memories locked away of soldiers suffocating on poisonous mustard gas, bodies reduced to fleshy chunks from grenade shrapnel and buildings plowed down under the weight of A7V tanks slowly resurfaced in the doctor's mind. Mauro had lost both of his sons, his only children, to German gunfire, and so he felt justified in his consuming distaste for those of such ancestry. Had he been aware that the stranger was German before operating, Mauro wasn't certain he would have been able to keep his Hippocratic Oath.

But as it was, Mauro had treated someone he considered an enemy and had contacted the man's kinsmen. His involvement should have ended there, but when he heard the thundering roar of a biplane flying over his little clinic, a spongy rock of dread sunk in the doctor's belly and swelled so much that Mauro found it difficult to breathe. It was just after three o'clock in the afternoon, hours after the stranger had been brought in, when the bellow of a plane engine shook the medical centre. Several villagers and even a few patients began to scream that a crimson biplane was landing in a nearby field and that two people dressed in black had immerged from the aircraft and were marching towards the clinic.

Mauro's blood had frozen when he saw the soldiers enter his clinic, for these two could be nothing but military personal. They held themselves straight, shoulders braced wide in an imposing manner so that their very presence filled the room, pushing out all others. If their stature wasn't telling enough, then their black uniforms certainly were.

Mauro barely glanced at the medals emblazoned on the chest of the dark haired man who lead his subordinate down the corridor. Instead, the doctor's eyes had been drawn to the crest stitched onto the soldier's left arm.

Mauro had heard rumors of the controversial National Socialist German Workers' Party and their forceful leader. As far as he knew, the Sturmabteilung were still the leaders of the crippled German army, but Mauro had heard whispers of an inevitable coupe that would assure the Nazi's political power. It had unnerved the doctor when the large man asked which room the John Doe was in, and although the patient was in no condition to welcome visitors, no one objected when the two soldiers walked into the man's room and closed the door.

Too timid to eavesdrop, those who had witnessed the powerful entrance of the SS soldiers resumed their interrupted tasks, though they all threw furtive looks at the closed door. When the unmistakable crack of flesh slapping flesh drifted from the room, everyone flinched, but no one moved. Mauro very nearly barged in, his instinct to offer care and aid jolting his reflexes into motion. But he stopped himself, a mixture of his unease, pride and personal bias stilling his movements. Instead, the elderly doctor moved to resume his tasks, but he couldn't force his mind to focus on anything other than the John Doe's room. The paperwork and chatter of the world around him seemed plugged, as if everyone was speaking to him through a glass door. He vaguely picked out snippets of conversation, the nurses gossiping about their beaus, the grumbling of waiting patients, and even the urgent eagerness of a man with a heavy foreign accent asking in broken French about the black clad biplane visitors. Mauro blocked all that out, put down the medical chart he should have been completing, and straining his aged ears to pick up on the calm, muted mutterings coming from inside the stranger's room.

Casually, the doctor leaned his frame against the wall alongside the closed door. He wanted to feel indignant about creeping around his own clinic, but Mauro knew he was intruding on a private conversation and couldn't quell his own anxiousness. Quickly, the doctor regarded his surroundings to be sure his act would go unnoticed. A dark haired man was sitting on a bench, his face obscured by a newspaper, a few nurses were pushing a food cart down the corridor, a child was crying and clutching to her mother's skirts, and a large, flashy man was helping old widow Brun take her daily walk through the clinic in order to exercise her badly arthritic hips. No one was paying him any mind as most seemed determined to ignore the stranger's room and the possible goings-on inside. Releasing a shallow breath, the doctor trained his ears to focus on the voices on the other side of the wall and listened…

* * *

"…completely useless. And leaving my private number on your person is inexcusable. I was under the impression you were a professional." Kluge said scathingly as he calmly put his leather glove back onto the naked hand that had struck Kimblee. The failure of an assassin had been unconscious when Kluge entered the room and it had felt more than satisfying to slap the man into awareness. Watching the Hochroter Tod's head snap back from the strike, a red welt already swelling on his face as the perfect brand of shame, brought a firm sense of compensation to the commander.

"No need to be so violent, Roy." Kimblee slurred as he turned to face Kluge, his black eyes dark with undisguised contempt. The injured man threw another vicious glance at the closed door where a stoic Riza Spitzer stood on guard. She wasn't looking at him, her ruddy colored eyes trained on Kluge's broad back. The woman's obvious tender feelings for the commander made Kimblee want to vomit, his drowsy, drug-induced mind drawing a sudden comparison between Kluge's bodyguard and the bitch that had shot him.

He hated women.

Blond ones especially.

"I cannot have you traced back to me." Kluge said.

"Then coming here with your whore was pretty stupid, wasn't it?"

Kimblee knew the pain was coming, but it still took him by surprise when Kluge casually took his right hand and dug his thumb into Kimblee's stitched bullet wound. His mouth opened in a silent cry and tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as a white hot fire of pain struck his arm, petrifying the limb in a crooked, claw-like state before the flames wrapped around his spine and left him at the commander's mercy. Kluge's blunt, insistent little thumb tore through the black threads and burrowed into the wound, tearing at healing flesh, stretching the hole so that more blood pooled and spilled out, coating Kimblee's fingers and dripping onto the floor.

Grunting, Kimblee accepted the pain, biting his own tongue so hard he thought he might chew through it. He deserved Kluge's punishment, really. It had been moronic to leave the extension number on his person instead of memorizing it and swallowing the evidence. Kluge had given Kimblee the number so that he could call and report his successful kidnapping of the Winry woman, not so that a shrill French nurse could inform the commander that his hired man was half dead in a country clinic across the boarder.

Damn Elric and that slut!

A keening groan whooshed from Kimblee's chapped lips when Kluge removed his thumb.

"It was a mistake hiring you. I should have left you to freeze in Siberia."

Kimblee just chuckled loudly in response, half crazed with relief from the pain Kluge had inflicted. Looking down at his injured hand, the assassin managed to make a mangled, bloody fist.

"Tell me how you ended up in France. You might as well prove helpful no matter how pathetic that help can be. Elric and that woman should have never left Freiburg."

"What can I say? They caught the train."

"What train?!"

"An express leaving for France. I couldn't tell you where it was going. Elric had figured out my plan to herd them in and sent a decoy automobile to trick me. I just used their own vehicle to catch up to them. I heard them mention a train station earlier and drove there. I saw them jumping on the train as it was leaving."

"_Which_ train?" Kimblee stressed, doing his best to remain composed, but once again his eyes betrayed him. Kimblee was intrigued by the flash of panic that swam in Roy Kluge's dark eyes. He wondered what had the commander so concerned.

"It was about eleven-thirty, a civilian train, I believe. Elric and I had it out in the luggage compartment until his woman shot me. Don't know where she got the gun."

"Damn!" Kluge whispered.

"What was that, Roy?" Kimblee sneered, absorbed in the commander's distress. His teasing earned the assassin another rough slap across the face. Kimblee snarled as he straightened his neck to shoot a derisive glare at the SS commander, but the large man was already moving to leave the room. "Leaving?"

"You've outlived your usefulness, Kimblee. The way you are now…you're pathetic, a useless waste of a human being. Completely worthless." Kluge said passively. "Live, die, I don't care. You're rubbish."

"We had a deal, Kluge!" Kimblee yelled, irrational rage and fear boiling in the chest of the defeated assassin.

"And I've just cancelled it. You failed, Kimblee. I suppose the Hochroter Tod really did die nine years ago."

And without sparing the man another word or glance, Kluge left the room, Eaglewing only a few paces behind him. They nearly knocked down the diffident doctor who had been slinking around the door and marched forcefully out of the quaint country clinic, ignoring Kimblee's voracious, agonizing scream that followed them outdoors.

Kluge stopped short a few paces away from the clinic, his legs spread wide apart and hands clenched behind his back.

"Sir?" Eaglewing asked, her breath tickling the back of his throat. Kluge denied himself a shiver of pleasure at the gesture and swallowed hard as he focused his senses to project out around himself and his bodyguard.

"Are we being watched, Eaglewing?" he asked harshly.

"Everyone in the clinic is watching us, sir." Eaglewing answered honestly, a bit of humor seemingly attempting to break through her even tone. Kluge grunted slightly, well aware that he and his bodyguard stood out in the small French countryside. They had made a spectacle of themselves by arriving in the biplane, but the matter was critically urgent and called for the swiftest form of transportation available. Eaglewing was a well-groomed pilot and had flown the biplane without incident, landing it perfectly in the paltry French countryside.

Knowing what he did now, it seemed that urgency was crucial.

Somehow, Edward Elric and his allies had jumped on the one train that held his secret cache of arsenals. There were any number of trains leaving Freiburg, and that bastard had picked the only one that could paint Kluge's downfall.

'_It's like a trite cliché from a cheap English novel._' Kluge thought sardonically, a heavy frown cutting like a scar along his face.

If Elric had jumped on the train there was more than a better chance that the maddening renegade had discovered the weapons, and if that was the case…then the possibility existed that Elric might discover Le Trou.

"We must go to Paris." Eaglewing announced tightly. Her conviction and capability to read his mind still managed to surprise the commander who, after the terrors he had seen and the choices he had made, didn't believe he still had it within his blackened soul to be surprised, especially by a woman.

That was why he would do anything to protect her.

"I can't land near the city, but I can bring us to Versailles. We can acquire a car from there to get us to Le Trou. It will take approximately five hours, and I will need to refuel the plane before we leave this village." Eaglewing continued, throwing her commander an inquisitive glance.

"Do what you have to." Kluge assented. Eaglewing gave him a curt nod before walking in the direction of the village, leaving the commander to move forward towards their aircraft.

The tingling sensation of being watched hadn't left Kluge, disturbing his mind and adding to the rush of aggravation, unease and incensed fury that threatened the commander's sanity. His plans were making him paranoid, but the fact that Elric had likely discovered the weapons and Le Trou gave the SS commander just cause to worry.

He stood solitary for a moment, as stiff as one of the many statues being erected in Europe in honor of the fallen heroes of the Great War. In the small village near the Austrian boarder where Kluge had been born, there was a gaudy, eight foot tall bronze statue of his visage in the square. He hated the effigy, but no more than he hated the plaque that accompanied the sculpture, spouting absurd drivel of his time served.

When he was the Führer, Kluge's first order would be to have that statue destroyed and the town plowed to the ground.

* * *

Winry took a long drag on her cigar, finishing it quickly and butting it out in the flower box outside of her bedroom window. She stared out blankly into the night, letting the breeze caress in her hair, absently playing with Luther's pocket watch, flipping the door open and closing it again with her thumb.

After being forced to discard of her ruined apple pie, Winry had given up on attempting to work in the kitchen. Al and Noa had prepared dinner, and though she was famished, Winry was unable to take more than a few sips of the vegetable soup before hastily retreating to her room.

She was terribly upset, unsure of what she did and didn't want, fighting with the possibilities her overactive imagination was conjuring of what Ed's secret could be. She argued with herself for hours and was no help to anyone, turning away Yafit when the girl asked to be read a story, and even unable to properly tend to Paz's head wound, leaving the responsibility for cleaning the contusion to Noa.

She was giving herself a headache, wondering if knowing Ed's secret would be worth the pain she was currently suffering and the ache that would surely come to pass. Winry had yet to survive one of Ed's secrets unscathed, and her body and mind felt so abused that she knew one more punch and she wouldn't recover.

She had opened the window and lit a cigar to try and escape her worries. The night had seemed to come upon the city without her even knowing and the house had quieted so much so that Winry wondered if even Ed had gone to sleep. She wasn't aware of the time, having not bothered to look at the pocket watch she was playing with during her entire exile in her bedroom. However, Winry suspected that it was late and that she would do well to prepare for bed. The sleep would help with her headache. She was just about to lurch away from the windowsill when a movement down below caught her attention. Hurrying to turn off her lamp and cloak the room in darkness, Winry slouched against the wall next to the windowsill and peeked down into the garden where the two figures had gathered.

She didn't have to see clearly to know it was the Elric brothers.

Only they would be sneaking about when they were among friends and allies.

Straining her ears, Winry listened carefully as the brothers' harshly whispered words were carried up to her on the warm night air.

"…let's go!"

"Right now? Brother, it's almost midnight. It can wait."

"No it can't! I found it, Al. I found Kluge's storehouse."

"Where?"

"Here! In Paris. It's in this ghetto near the northeast edge of the city. Those crates being unloaded from the train were Kluge's shipment."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure! I hopped on the truck taking them to the warehouse and then walked back here so I know the way. We can take a cab there easily. We need to check this out, Al. You have to come with me."

Winry peeked her head around the edge of the window, unable to hear the younger Elric's next words, but she was able to make out Ed clapping Al on the back before leading the way out of the garden, jumping over the stone wall with a bit of struggle on his still healing ankle. Al paused only for a moment before taking chase.

Winry growled, irritating the back of her throat.

Even Al was involved in the secret!

Taking a deep breath, Winry made up her mind. She was fed up with sitting idly by and waiting for Ed to come to her. She was through with feeling hurt and guilty and pitiful. She had crossed the Gate to find the man with the golden eyes and she would be damned if she was going to allow him to take her for granted. It didn't bother Winry that the heavy, aching sorrow she had been feeling the whole length of the day had so easily given way to boiling, nearly irrational anger. She had a desperate need to thrash something, destroy any barrier that stood in her way, but mostly, she had to follow Ed.

Waiting was no longer an option.

If he refused to speak of his secret, then Winry would discover it for herself, and while she was at it, she planned on giving Ed a solid piece of her mind.

Placing Luther's pocket watch into her breast pocket, Winry didn't even bother grabbing a coat as she rushed down the stairs and out of the townhouse.

* * *

_France_

_5. Oct. 28_

***

Taking out the guards had been a little too simple. The men would be unconscious for some time, allowing the Elric brothers some leisure to scope out the mysterious warehouse in Le Trou. They crept down the stairs and, after Ed had punched a hole in the door with his automail hand, welcomed themselves into the dimly lit space. Ready to face any number of men, Ed and Al were suspicious when they were met with silence and emptiness.

"Brother, what is this place?" Al asked, taking in the spacious chamber. It was a great, expansive area with overhead guardrails, sturdy support beams and industrial light fixtures. A fair sized boxed-in office sat in the far left corner about two hundred meters ahead of the brothers. A large furnace, unused conveyor belts and an innumerable collection of tools suggested that the place had been a smelting factory at one time, possibly used for making gold plaited ornaments. Nearly one hundred crates of every size were scattered orderly throughout the warehouse, piled one on top of the other.

All of them had the cleaning supplies stamp on them.

"Do they _all_ have artillery in them?"

Instead of answering, Ed marched over to one of the largest crates and ripped a few of the boards free, discovering all the pieces needed to assemble several high caliber snipers rifles.

"I'd say 'yes'." Ed answered.

"And cleaning supplies?"

"A perfect cover up. I mean, cleaning chemicals have to be transported separately from one location to the next due to possible accidents, and cleaning tools aren't anything more harmless than mops and buckets. No one would question the shipments. It's clever." Ed said, though his tone held no trace of admiration for Kluge's scheme. "But what does he want these for?"

"Over here, Ed." Al called, urging his brother to follow him towards the office room. It had struck the brothers as odd that the office wasn't locked up, but they entered regardless and began to look around.

"Oh my God…" Al sighed when he turned on a lamp, illuminating the room. It was full of old, unused furniture, but a desk and a heavy metal filing cabinet appeared to still be in use. What had caused Alphonse to gasp, however, was the expansive European map that was tacked onto the wall behind the desk. There were markings on the map in red and blue colored ink. The city of Paris was circled in blue and various cities along the German boarder were also highlighted in the heavy blue hue. Arrows were drawn, vaulting right onto the German side, pointing to key cities that were circled in red.

"These are attack plans." Ed said, taking in the map.

"_Invasion_ plans." Al corrected, noting with lurching worry the Berlin was harshly circled, the red ink like blood on paper.

"Why would Kluge be planning to invade his own country from France?" Ed wondered.

"He'd have to take France first before he could attack Germany." Al added.

"And to take France you have to take…"

"Paris." the boys said together, their eyes connecting and holding for a moment as their hypothesis sunk in.

"That's fucking nuts!" Ed exclaimed breathlessly, blanching at the evidence of Kluge's fanatical ambitions.

"He has enough weapons, maybe even more coming. What about followers?" Al asked, trying to piece together the last few fragments of the puzzle.

"His men at the Fortress number about two hundred, and he must have some connections in the higher ranks."

"But what about his supporters here? Brother, we've only seen those few guards and no one else."

"I know." Ed answered, worried over that critical fact. Kluge wasn't the sort to leave an operation of this grand a scale to the hands of a few inexperienced boys in uniform. Was there a secret bunker of Kluge supporters, or was the SS commander intending to bribe French soldiers to his cause? And why was he planning to challenge not only the current German government but also his own political party? "Let's get a look at those files." Ed decided. Al nodded his agreement and moved to the metal unit.

"Look, brother." he said, pointing to the damaged keyhole in the top right corner of the cabinet. The chamber had been scratched and busted in. "Someone's already been here."

"Shit." Ed growled. "You'd figure Kluge would have a key to his own files."

"Yep. I think someone else must be on Kluge's trail." Al deduced.

"Then let's hurry up before we run into them." Ed suggested, whipping open the first drawer of the filing cabinet and removing several files. Al followed his brother's lead, moving towards the desk so that he could spread the papers out before him. Long minutes passed, the crisp shuffling of papers the only sound that filled the air.

"Ed, these are extensive files on French military personnel living in the city. Biographies, family histories, ranks, addresses and even photographs of their houses!"

"I've got pretty much the same, except it's German personnel living in Berlin." Ed answered before he opened up another file and discovered a blueprint of what appeared to be a sewer system."

"He's got everything planned out pretty succinctly." Al noted.

"Yeah…" Ed murmured as he tapped his fingers against his chin. Knowing where your enemy lived, his daily routines, his experience, and especially who he loved were ruthless ways for any megalomaniac to assure his place in the world.

"So why hasn't he launched his attack yet?"

Ed didn't answer, an idea only half formed in his mind and one he didn't wish to voice at the moment. He needed more time to formulate his thoughts.

"Get the lamp, Al. We're leaving." Ed ordered, gathering up the files he had grabbed and the ones Al had spread over the desk and shoving them very ungracefully back into the filing cabinet. There was no need to be careful or pristine. After all, someone else had already broken into the unit.

The brothers crept out of the office, and moved their way through the dimly lit warehouse, keeping vigilant and looking out for more guards. The area seemed as desolate as it was when the first entered, but that only served to worry the Elrics further. It simply wasn't in Kluge's style to be so lax.

The brothers had nearly made it to the exit when a series of crashes followed by low, furious cursing caught their attention. Giving one another narrowed glares and stern frowns, the brothers stealthily moved towards the noise, prepared to have to fight another guard and perhaps interrogate him. Making their way around several towers of crates and shimming between old factory equipment, they closed in on a slim figure that was juggling with spilled bullets.

Signaling to his brother that he was going to sneak up on the stranger, Ed moved quickly, automail arm raised to unleash a sharp jab into the gut of the mysterious person when, quite suddenly, they turned around and caught his approach.

Though the lighting was weak and difficult to penetrate, the young man would recognize those large blue eyes even in complete darkness. He stopped short and redirected the force of his arm to swing out to his right. His feet dragged as he regained his balance and when he was steady, Ed threw a furious gaze at the woman before him.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he nearly yelled.

"What the hell is going on?!" Winry countered, dropping the bullets she had been trying to clean up and moving to stand only a few inches in front of the elder Elric.

"Why did you follow me?" Ed demanded.

"Because you wouldn't talk to me!" Winry snapped back, crossing her arms and frowning.

"Did you ever think that maybe that was because I didn't want you to know anything?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I thought." Winry decried, lowering her eyes so that Ed wouldn't be able to see her pain. "I thought we'd promised no secrets."

"Fuck…" Ed sighed, turning away as the guilt of his actions pelted his body like rain. He knew he would feel terrible for keeping Winry in the dark about the weapons, but having to face her so soon and being caught in his deception felt just as awful as if he'd been found cheating.

"We'll talk about this later." Ed grunted.

"It's always later." Winry said spitefully, though her expression held anything but contempt. She was sad.

"Winry, how long have you been here?" Al whispered, doing his best to be the calm, soothing centre that Ed and Winry could lean on.

"I came in just after you."

"Were you ever in the office? Did you break into the filing cabinet?"

"What filing cabinet? I saw more of these crates with the stamp on them and broke into a few to see what was inside. It's all artillery and ammunition. What's going on?" Winry asked, giving the brothers an incredulous, wide-eyed look. Ed couldn't bear to look at her and see her broken, accusing expression. Instead, he turned his back.

"Let's go. We'll talk back at the townhouse." Ed decided.

Staring daggers at the back of Ed's head, Winry looked over at Alphonse for guidance. The younger Elric was unable to offer her more than a sympathetic smile and helpless shrug of his shoulders before moving to follow his brother out of the warehouse. Realizing she had no other choice, Winry lowered her head and began to walk forward.

Ed was feeling like the worst monster to ever slither out from under a rock. He had feared Winry discovering his lie, and like the foolish teenager he had once been, he had underestimated the mechanic's iron will and stubborn independence. Perhaps he should have told her about the weapons from the start, but his only concern had been the danger that could befall her if she were involved any more than she already was. After all, simply knowing him had put her at a major risk, and the more knowledge she acquired of Kluge and the SS, the worse her situation would get .

Didn't she realize that he was just trying to protect her?!

"Ah!"

Ed froze, his ears acutely attuned to Winry's little yelp. But it was the deafening click of a gun being cocked that sent a tremor of dread shooting down the young man's spine like black ice. He gulped, afraid to turn around, but needing to confirm it with his own eyes.

Al was already bearing witness to the terrible sight, having stumbled back a few steps from the force of such a violent vision.

It was Kluge, dressed in his blackest uniform, medals gleaming on his breast in the dim light, no hat on his head, his ebony colored eyes hard and lethal as they met Ed's over the distance of a few feet.

He was holding Winry by her left arm, a grip that would have been far too easy for the young woman to free herself from if not for the blade that pressed so snuggly against her throat that every breath she took pushed her flesh against the gleaming weapon.

Eaglewing was standing a few feet to her commander's right, a gun in her hands, her aim focused on Al.

They had been caught and were well and truly trapped.

A horrified grimace contorted Ed's features for only a moment before shifting into resentful fury. Catching Kluge's eye, Ed knew that the man wouldn't hesitate to order Al shot or slit Winry's throat with his own hands.

There was nowhere to hide.

"Alright, Elric." Kluge challenged, tilting the dagger against Winry's throat so that it cast a glare into the man's golden eyes. "Tell me where you hid the uranium bomb."

* * *

_And that's the end of another chapter. I know it was mostly filler, and this whole chapter was really fragmented as I traveled from one character to another, but that final moment was the big payoff. _

_Now, I know a great number of you are very curious and eager to find the motive behind Roy Kluge's hard and brutal behavior. Well, the next chapter will reveal everything. That's right, I'm finally doing a Roy-centric chapter! Yay! I hope I do him justice and that you will all enjoy his back story. _

_To those of you who left anonymous reviews, here is my reply:_

_**Asgeroth**__: Thank you very much! I'm always thrilled when I learn that readers have been enjoying the fic. Sometimes, when I wander away from strictly EdxWin material, I get concerned that I'll lose everyone, but the Kluge/uranium bomb sub-plot appears to be one of the most enjoyable parts of the story for readers. That makes me very happy. I hope this chapter, with a few of the major questions answered, has been just as fun to read. Please, let me know your thoughts!_

_**Dreamer**__: Glad you liked the Kimblee scene. I really am having way too much fun writing this man. He's so evil and deplorable, with no scruples at all. Oh yes, he'll be back, you can count on it. Hope you've liked this chapter._

_Also, I have been saying that I'll be finishing _Don't Forget_ in the next couple of months. I have set a deadline for myself that I am working very hard to keep it. I can't reveal much more other than that I have outlined all of the chapters and that, as of this chapter, there will be ten more chapters of _Don't Forget_ to go. Let's begin the countdown!_

_Naturally, I want to know what everyone has thought of this chapter. Please, if you can, take the time to leave a review. No flames, please and thank you!_

_My greatest regards and hugs all around!_

**Giant Nickel**


	19. His Reasons

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, not even in my wildest dreams._

**A/N:**_ So here it is, dearest readers, the Roy chapter. I apologize for the longer wait. This chapter went through extensive edits and re-writes, but I am very happy with this finished result. _

_We're going to get a good look into the mind of my villain and, I hope, you will get a better understanding of this man and why he turned out so differently from his Amestrian counterpart. Remember, Europe and Amestris are alternate dimensions, which suggests that not only would there be doubles of people in both worlds, but also that those people would be met with the same challenges and choices. Now, the Amestrian Roy made a life-altering decision after the Ishbalan war. Similarly, Kluge made a choice after WWI. These men did not take the same path, however, and now you will find out why._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**His Reasons**

_France_

_5. Oct. 28_

***

"The bomb, Elric, or would you rather see the inside of her throat?" Kluge negotiated calmly. His eyes were trained on the young man before him, his dark chocolate orbs steely and fierce, unwilling to allow his prey to escape. Eaglewing had the younger brother at gunpoint, saving Kluge the trouble of having to split his attention between the Elric men. He did note, however, that the rumors had been true.

The younger Elric did look remarkably like his elder brother.

Giving Edward a few, tense moments to let the reality of the situation sink in, Kluge then shifted the dagger in his hand so that the tip of the blade pressed against the woman's throat, a small trickle of blood collecting around the miniscule puncture. It wasn't a proper demonstration of the damage that Kluge could inflict on the blonde's pretty neck, but it certainly got his seriousness across to the horror-struck Elric.

"Let's talk." Ed suggested hoarsely, his hands held before him in a gesture of compliance.

"I agree. Tell me where you hid the uranium bomb." Kluge said. "I'd rather not kill her, Elric. It would get blood all over my uniform."

The cold remark made Winry squeak, all color draining from her face. She didn't doubt for a moment that the man holding her would go through with his threat without a twinge of remorse. The way he was holding the blade against her throat and the control he wielded when he had made that small cut to entice Ed to speak demonstrated the man's brutal sincerity.

She didn't want to die.

Still, Winry knew the devastating effects that the bomb would have if put in the wrong hands, and Kluge's hands were most definitely the wrong ones.

"What would you want that thing for anyway, Kluge? Don't you already have enough toys to take over the world?" Ed taunted, desperate to buy time. If he could just have a moment to think he was sure he could come up with an escape plan that left everyone alive. He just needed time!

"What I want the bomb for isn't your concern. What you should worry about is the welfare of your woman. Now, don't make me repeat myself again. I hate that."

Ed gulped, petrified where he stood as surely as if he was encased in a block of ice. He was trapped, balancing the life of those he loved against a weapon that could eradicate a city of thousands as if it never existed.

"Take me. Let them go and you can have me." Ed bargained abruptly.

"Brother!" Al cried. "You can't!"

"Don't do it, Edward." Winry snarled, speaking for the first time. Ed locked eyes with her, her blue orbs crashing into his gold ones like a rushing tide striking the sandy shore. She spoke to him with those eyes, and her message was perfectly clear.

He couldn't give the bomb to Kluge. She would sacrifice herself first.

The only problem was Ed wasn't willing to perform such an exchange. He told her so with his own unrelenting stare.

"I'm all yours, Kluge." Ed announced, his gaze never straying from Winry's.

"A noble gesture, but a useless one." Kluge sniffed. "I've had you as my prisoner, Elric. You don't break, and taking you back to the Fortress would be useless. You'd never tell me." Kluge said confidently as he observed his enemy. The whole confrontation was proving dull and fruitless. Kluge wouldn't tolerate being at a stand-still the length of the night. What Elric needed was a little more persuasion. Cutting into the woman's throat hadn't proven as effective as Kluge had hoped, so the SS commander opted to be even more brutal. "You seem to be captivated by your woman's eyes. I'll give you one."

Al gasped loudly, the sigh dancing around the ears of all in the warehouse. Even Eaglewing threw her commander a momentary glance, surprised at the cruelty Kluge was willing to perform to see to the needs of his goal.

The SS commander only gave Ed a few seconds to contemplate the threat before he moved the blade away from Winry's throat and positioned it a few inches from her left eye. If it proved necessary, Kluge would return the Winry woman piece by piece to Elric until the stubborn man gave up the bomb. Taking hold of Winry's throat, his long gloved fingers curling around her jaw to keep her still, Kluge moved to pierce one pretty blue eye when Elric cried out.

"No! Stop it! Just stop…I'll tell you. Please…let her go. _Please._" he begged.

"Please?" Kluge mocked, struck by the broken image his enemy made.

In all the months that Elric was held in the Fortress, the man had never wavered in his iron will. He had been tortured for hours, beaten, starved, only given a few hours of sleep between his interrogations. They had forced him to sit on his knees on cold stone floors, took samples of his blood, even pulled a few teeth. They had made him endure excruciating pain as they tinkered with his mechanical appendages while they were still attached to his body, and yet, Elric hadn't uttered a word about the uranium bomb. The infuriating man hadn't even screamed. It should have satisfied Kluge to finally see his greatest adversary a crumbled shell begging for mercy.

Kluge only felt disappointment.

Swallowing his revulsion, Kluge kept the dagger poised close to Winry's eye.

"Tell me." he growled.

"It's…"

"Brother stop!" Al screamed.

"I wouldn't." Kluge replied. "Eaglewing, shoot the younger Elric if he speaks again."

"I have a better idea." a new, brash voice intruded, accompanied by the clanking cock of a gun.

All eyes turned rapidly towards Eaglewing.

There was a gun pointed at the back of her head, the tip of the barrel teasing her cropped blond bob. A steady hand with nimble fingers held the revolver against the woman. That hand was attached to an arm cloaked in the grey sleeve of an overcoat, which led to a whiskered chin, long nose, hazel colored eyes shielded by oval spectacles and dark, spiky hair.

"Hughes!" Ed exclaimed, the air whooshing out of him as if he'd been punched in the gut.

"Yo! Am I interrupting the party?" the man joked darkly.

Startled to see the intruder, and furious that Eaglewing was being held hostage, Kluge reacted radically, moving to actually pluck out Winry's eye with the dagger when a large, burly hand closed around his wrist and stopped him. Flabbergasted, Kluge swung around viciously, releasing Winry in his livid haste to see who would dare accost him.

"I am sorry, commander, but I can't have you harming an innocent woman. An act so foul and cruel, so wretched, is unforgivable."

Kluge recognized the large, muscular man as an inspector from Magdeburg. He had never bothered to become closely acquainted with anyone on the Magdeburg police force and was realizing the fault of that prideful oversight. The large bald man took the dagger from Kluge's fingers as easily as if he was retrieving a stolen cookie from a bratty child. Infuriated, Kluge ripped his wrist out of the man's grip. Now unarmed, and his insubordinate held at gunpoint, Kluge had no control over the situation.

"Oh, Herr Elric! Fraulein Winry! Young Alphonse!" the large man exclaimed, tucking the dagger into the deep pocket of his trench coat before skipping towards the three young adults and sweeping them up into his brawny arms. Though all three tried to dissuade the man, their pleas fell on deaf ears as they were squished in his embrace.

"Armstrong! Get off!" Ed croaked, all air forcefully expelled from his body.

"Please, Mr. Armstrong, get a hold of yourself." Winry pleaded as the man tenderly rubbed his long handlebar mustache against her brow.

Alphonse's face had gone purple, his eyes bugging out and looking as if they would pop from his skull at any moment. Thankfully, Armstrong released the trio and began to wipe at his pale blue eyes with a handkerchief to stop the overflow of relieved tears.

"Fraulein Spitzer, kindly raise your hands above your head." Hughes requested politely, taking the bodyguard's gun from her when she complied with his wishes. He tucked the weapon into the waistband of his trousers and kept his focus entirely on the woman before him.

"How did you get here, Hughes?" Ed asked, tugging at his shirt collar as his lungs became reacquainted with oxygen. "How did you know?"

"Simple. I tapped Kluge's phone line." Hughes bragged, flashing Ed a cocky grin. "It took some time to find the right extension, but I've got an old girlfriend who works as a telephone operator and she helped me out. I got a connection just in time for Kluge to get a phone call about an injured man in a village clinic in France. We followed Kluge and Fraulien Spitzer there."

"So Kimblee's alive." Ed stated rather than asked. Hughes nodded.

"He's not in good shape, though. It'll be months before he's fully recovered."

Ed threw Winry a wry look, but the young woman was still engrossed in Hughes and Armstrong's miraculous appearance. Rubbing at the small cut on her neck, which had already stopped bleeding, Winry stared at Kluge uncertainly. The man was being held in place by Armstrong who had clapped one burly hand on the SS commander's shoulder. His dark cacao colored eyes were trained only on Maes Hughes, a palpable hatred overflowing from his very being and rushing towards the man who held Eaglewing at gunpoint. Hughes, however, was ignoring Kluge's death stare, giving all of his attention to the woman before him.

"I must say, Fraulein Spitzer, you looked much better as a brunette. Why the shoddy dye job?"

"Shut up, Maes!" Kluge snarled. Despite the fact that he was now the captive instead of the captor, Kluge continued to hold himself like a monarch among a company of plebeians, acting as if the situation was still in his favor. And really, it was. After all, Kluge had a dozen of his best men guarding Le Trou. It wouldn't be long before one or more of them discovered these bothersome circumstances.

"If you're waiting for your men to save your sorry ass, don't bother. Armstrong made sure they'll be taking nice long naps for a few hours yet, and they'll all have killer headaches when they finally wake up." Hughes bragged.

"Damn you!"

"We're both damned, Roy. At least my conscience is clear. What about you? Do you sleep well at night, or does Siegfried haunt your nightmares?" Hughes asked, still not daring to shift his gaze away from his blond captive.

"Fuck you." Kluge rasped, using his words like weapons. They were meant to cut and injure, meant to split Hughes open so that his organs would spew onto the floor. Hughes didn't flinch at the honest sentiment, but his eyes did crinkle at the corners as if to fight back tears and his mouth twisted into a hard grim frown.

Kluge's words had stung, but Hughes had his own intimate arsenal.

"Was the blonde your idea, Roy? Do you really think that's going to save her from Hitler's plans?"

"What would you know of his plans?" Kluge demanded.

"Did you forget I was once part of the National Socialist German Workers' Party? I know what's coming, maybe not as detailed as you do, but I know, and blonde or brunette, it won't save her." Hughes lectured solemnly.

"What are you talking about? What's going on?" Ed cried, moving between the two men.

"She's Jewish, Ed. Eaglewing is Jewish." Hughes answered, a little surprised that Ed hadn't known that critical detail.

All eyes in the room turned to regard the stern woman who still had her hands raised above her head. Her brandy colored gaze was trained ahead of her, focused on a phantom only she could see, her expression so serene and calm that one would never guess she was being held at gunpoint. Eaglewing, however, was a very intelligent and strong woman. Though she might appear to be unaffected by her situation, there was no doubt that she was already calculating an escape plan. Hughes, however, wasn't about to lose the only hostage that would make Kluge cease his militant plans, and so he kept all of his focus on the woman, his finger cradling the gun trigger with purpose.

"Don't tell them anything, sir." Eaglewing commanded, evenly and unafraid.

"He doesn't have to tell me anything." Hughes stated. "After disposing your men around the perimeter, Armstrong and I got a look at your files. I know what you're planning. Do you really think you can take over a whole country and invade another? You do have it pretty well thought out, using the sewers to smuggle your soldiers into Paris and launching surprise attacks on the homes of military and political leaders, but do you really believe they'll give in to you?"

Kluge did not reply. He stared at Hughes as if the man were a loathsome spider that deserved to have its legs torn off one by one. A long, weighty silence filled the warehouse until Al took a shuddering breath and spoke.

"That's why you want the bomb, isn't it? You'd have France's full cooperation if you were holding Paris hostage. You don't have the man power to accomplish a successful invasion, but if you had the uranium bomb…"

He didn't need to finish his conclusion.

With his well armed men and the uranium bomb, Kluge could effortlessly take Paris. And if he had the capital, it would mean he had the French army at his disposal, easily giving the SS commander the numbers he required to invade Germany and overthrow its government.

"So that's why you've been sneaking weapons into France." Ed suddenly spoke up. "What the fuck's wrong with you?! That's what this is all about? You just want to build your own Nazi empire in France? What kind of idiot are you?!"

Ed was a seething, furious powerhouse as he marched towards Kluge and yanked on the man's collar, forcing his face down to his so they could look eye to eye.

"I've been following your weapons shipments for over a year, and when I finally get the chance to find out exactly what you're up to, it's something so pathetically petty…"

Kluge launched forward, unable to break free from Armstrong's grasp, but still managing to land a solid punch to Ed's jaw, sending the man flying back to land on his rear end with a hard thump. Kluge was immediately pulled back by Armstrong and forced into a restraining choke-hold which he didn't bother fighting. He was satisfied with his strike.

"Shit!" Ed grumbled, rubbing his cheek.

"This has been going on for over a year?" Winry asked, her blue eyes shifting between the Elric brothers. Al frowned at Winry, looking properly chastised, but Ed didn't even throw her a glance, not prepared to face her wrath.

"So you'll take over France and Germany, then what? You'll take Hitler's place in the party and appoint yourself Führer?" Ed spat.

Kluge's silence was his answer.

"And what will you do then?" Hughes joined. "Take over where he started?"

"I won't let it happen." Kluge finally uttered, surprising all in the room. Looking at Hughes's profile and making it clear he was addressing the police captain, Kluge spoke lowly. "We know what Hitler wants to do with the Jews."

"Have you suddenly become a humanitarian, Roy?" Hughes mocked cruelly. "This whole scheme is just so you can save all the Jews from the Nazi regime?"

"Not all. Just one." Kluge admitted, cursing his weakness to make his former friend understand his motives.

Hughes snorted in reply, rolling his eyes heavenward like a father used to the pathetic excuses of his ne'er-do-well son.

"I thought as much." was all he said.

Kluge grit his teeth, momentarily struggling against Armstrong's hold on him in an empty attempt to race to Hughes and smack that gun out of his hand and shake some sense into the man.

Out of everyone in the world, Kluge had hoped Maes Hughes would understand, and Kluge despised himself for holding tightly to such a puerile wish. For as much as he could admit to despising Hughes now, there still existed within the SS commander a sliver of the seven year old child who had made a blood pact with his carefree best friend who dreamed of working on the police force.

It surprised Kluge when he thought of it presently, how easily he took to Hughes, becoming a friend to him so simply it was as if their relationship was planned by the cosmos. The fact that they would have ever met in the first place seemed universally unlikely.

They had become boyhood friends in Munich, Kluge having moved from his little farm village near the Austrian boarder to the sweeping city to live with his robust, handsome aunt. His mother was dead, he had never known his father, and Auntie Weihnachten was more concerned with her waning youth and entourage of lovers than her awkward, timid nephew. Hughes's own parents could care less if their only child lived or died, and after being assigned to share a desk at school, the boys were instantly drawn to one another, creating a family made for just the two of them. They were not brothers, but from the moment they cut into their palms with Hughes's pocketknife and pressed their broken flesh together, their blood flowing and mingling and slipping down their hands, Kluge had made a vow to stand by his friend.

His partner.

His support.

His blood brother.

Kluge's resources were limited, but he had done all he could for Hughes, including aiding in securing his friend a place in the Munich police force by speaking directly to the Police Chief Director who was one of his aunt's lovers. He was proud of his friend and liked to think of himself as a brace Hughes could rely on as he worked hard to live up to his dream. Living a humble, rather unremarkable life had suited Kluge as long as it meant that he could see Hughes happy.

But then there was the war.

Kluge had signed up immediately, a twenty-three year old boy who was sought purpose in the heat of battle. He found he liked the hard, routine discipline the army provided, and the experience was made all the more secure when Hughes also signed up and was placed in Kluge's regiment. Life in the trenches, however, held more mud and disease than it did glory. All the same, Kluge discovered his niche for leadership and was able to quickly rise in the ranks, becoming a battalion captain in just one year, and no matter how far up he climbed, Hughes was always there by his side, sharing in his blood brother's trails, supporting him like a gargantuan buttress.

But that all started to change that fateful day when one of Kluge's men took a bullet for him…

* * *

_"Hold on, John!__" Roy demanded, dragging his wounded comrade through the little cabin and to the bed where the surgeon had instructed him to be placed. _

_"You should have left me behind." __Mayhem admonished through a grunt._

_"Shut up!__ Never say that to me again." Roy ordered. "Where's that damn doctor?!"_

_"Here." the man said as he entered the bedroom with an armful of fresh bandages. "Get him out of his clothes, Lieutenant Colonel. Please hurry."_

_Roy did as he was instructed, desperate to have something to do with his hands. When he had been dragging Mayhem's body across the Romanian countryside, Roy had whistled to keep his mind occupied, willing his thoughts to focus on anything other than how heavy his man's body was on his back, or how much blood he had lost. He had been a fool to take the sniper's bullet for his superior officer, and Roy made a mental note to thoroughly lecture his subordinate when he was well. _

_In many ways, they were at least lucky that __they had found a doctor that would agree to operate on German soldiers. Their squad was without a medic and Mayhem was bleeding so profusely that there was no doubt that he would die from the loss. Though he would be severely reprimanded and possibly stripped of his rank, Roy had given authority to one of his Majors and left his post to carry John Mayhem to the only doctor in Romania who would tend to an enemy._

_It was Maes who had told him of this healer, Dr. Hecker. The man was actually of German citizenship, but he had been living in Romania for the past several years. This information wouldn't have been particularly significant except that word had spread that the good doctor had opened his doors to those from either side of the war. Until the moment Mayhem had gotten shot, Roy hadn't spared a thought for the saintly Dr. Hecker. _

_Now, however, as he deftly stripped __Mayhem of his uniform, the entire right leg of the fatigues a wet plum color from the sever blood loss, Roy was thankful that Maes was so irritatingly meticulous when it came to useless details. _

_Roy looked up at the doctor who was hurriedly sanitizing his hands. __The man was already dressed in a fresh gown and apron, his mousy brown hair pulled back under a cap and a mask covering his nose and mouth. To look at Dr. Hecker, one wouldn't think he had a great deal of courage. He was a petite, willowy man with pale skin and sunken green eyes that were not at all complimented by the dark violet bags that hung under them. His demeanor was also fairly muted. He had looked properly scandalized when Roy had barged into the cottage, but other than that momentary shock, Dr. Hecker had closed off his expressions, simply welcoming the men into his frugal home and hurrying to prepare for the emergency surgery. _

_"I'll need you to help me." Dr. Hecker said as he came to the bedside, placing a tray of tools on the nightstand. __Roy watched as the man soaked a cloth in ether before pressing it firmly to Mayhem's nose, forcing him to inhale the potent drug. _

_He struggled._

_"Hold him down." the doctor ordered. Mayhem did not resist long and soon his body relaxed. His eyes, however, did not close all the way, remaining half-lidded and glassy._

_"What did you do to him?" Roy demanded hoarsely._

_"He's unconscious. He won't feel any pain as I pull the bullet out." Dr. Hecker explained before moving to begin the operation. "He's lost a lot of blood."_

_"Too much?" Roy asked rather desperately._

_"I don't think so. Did you make this tourniquet?" _

_Roy nodded dumbly._

_"That's good. I think you may have saved your man's life." Dr. Hecker praised as he went about the business of seeing to Mayhem's wound. Roy remained at the bedside, providing information when he could, handing the doctor fresh bandages or disinfected cloths. _

_Nearly an hour passed before Hecker gave Roy the grim news._

_The bullet had struck deep in the thick thigh muscles dangerously close to the femoral artery. Thankfully, the bullet hadn't struck the artery, but it seemed that a fragment of the slug had caused some damage to the vein, which is why Mayhem had bled so much. It also appeared that the bullet was deeply lodged in Mayhem's kneecap, a major medical complication. It was too risky to chance removing the bullet. The most Dr. Hecker could do was stop the bleeding, clean the wound with fresh bandages and prepare for a blood transfusion. _

_As Roy sat in a chair beside __Mayhem's bedside, watching as his blood traveled through a tube from his body and into his comrade's, the fatigue of the day finally settled on him and he moaned loudly. He wished, suddenly and immaturely that Maes was with him. Unfortunately, the friends had been assigned different regiments eight months ago when Roy was promoted. . _

_"You are a good man." Dr. Hecker praised as he removed his bloodstained scrubs and placed his medical instruments in a bowl of disinfectant. Roy only nodded at the surgeon's incessant blather, his lids getting heavy._

_"Please don't fall asleep yet, Lieutenant Colonel." Hecker requested. His voice jolted Roy out of his drowsy state, but he knew he would not be able to remain awake for very long._

_"Talk to me." Roy requested, thinking that the doctor's prattle would at least keep him conscious. "Are you all alone? No nurse? No wife?"_

_"Ah. No, I don't have any assistants. At times like these, most would rather select their side and serve it instead of choosing to uphold medical oaths and aid all those in need." Dr. Hecker replied with a rueful smile._

_"And your wife?" Roy asked._

_"I sent her to live with my sister in Munich." Dr. Hecker answered with a faraway look in his eyes. "We have a small son. He's only five. I didn't want him to be around this. You understand."_

_Roy nodded, fully sympathizing with Hecker's cause. They talked for a few more moments before the doctor ended the transfusion and removed the needle from Roy's arm._

_"There we are Lieutenant Colonel. Your man won't be conscious for several hours yet, and you're exhausted. There are some empty bedrooms upstairs."_

_Roy accepted the invitation and moved to leave the room when he paused at the door. _

_"My name is Roy Mustang Kluge, Lieutenant Colonel in the German Army Corps infantry regiment, first battalion. Thank you for saving my man."_

_"You saved your man, sir. You brought him here." the doctor exclaimed humbly, extending his hand. "Siegfried Hecker." _

_Roy shook Siegfried's __hand before leaving the room and trudging up the stairs in search of a bed and a few hours sleep. The first room he tried already housed a guest. The man in the bed had a serious head wound and the uniform jacket hanging on the bedpost betrayed the stranger as a Russian soldier. _

_An enemy._

_On reflex, Roy reached for the luger on his belt, but stopped himself from drawing his weapon and walked away from the door to resume his search for an empty room. He knew that Dr. Hecker aided men from both ends of the war…and he had saved Mayhem's life. Roy wouldn't disrespect the man or his practices. _

_He was in his debt._

_That night, Roy slept unusually soundly, his dreams unpunctuated by the constant rainfall of gunfire… _

* * *

Kluge had to swallow back the bile rising in his throat as the memories of that mousy, tired doctor flashed through his mind like a film reel. It was the one face out of all the faces he had known during the war that continued to plague him. The most difficult part to deal with, however, was Kluge's remembrance of the man he had once been. Naïve enough to believe in the peaceful dream of a doctor who gave medical aid to two sides of a war, Kluge had been grateful to Dr. Hecker. He would even go so far as to admit he admired the man.

Kluge only stayed with the doctor that single night before leaving to rejoin his battalion, entrusting Mayhem's return to Germany to Hecker. It was nearly three months before Kluge had learned of Mayhem's disability and honorable discharge. Kluge had managed to assuaged his guilt over John by continuing to fulfill every call of duty asked of him, and in 1917, he was reunited with Hughes and had been elevated to the top ranks of the military.

It was on the eve that Kluge had been promoted to Major General that he had been given the assignment that would change his future and completely destroy his past. Kluge's regiment had been camped in Bulgaria, and Chief of the General Staff, Paul von Hindenburg, and General Grumman had called for a meeting with Kluge in one of the poorly crafted trench bunkers. They had decided to give the newest member of the upper ranks a simple mission to prove his valor to the Motherland.

They had wanted Dr. Hecker brought back from his cottage in Romania and taken in for interrogation at Munich. Apparently, the good doctor had gone to some of the battlefields in France in the spring and had operated on several high ranking allied officers. Grumman and von Hindenburg suspect Hecker was in possession of valuable allied military information, and they had been quite prepared to order the torture of a civilian to gain their answers rather than chance loosing the war.

Kluge recalled the startling disgust he had felt when he had been given his orders. However, he had become accustomed to the politics of war, and understood that certain sacrifices had to be made. Unfortunately, Hughes didn't see the grey areas in life, and when he was assigned by Grumman and von Hindenburg to accompany Kluge into Romania, the naïve, honorable man had insisted that he and Kluge find a way to rescue the doomed doctor. It made Kluge tremor with fury to think of Hughes's infuriating gullibility. He had lived with parents who beat him daily, was discriminated for his youth and inexperience on the police force, had seen numerous atrocities during the length of the war, and yet, the fool had whole-heartedly believed that Hecker could be saved. Hughes really had no concept of the politics of war. He was simply a good man who, when he believed in something, sought to do what was right according to his own morale.

It was Hughes's unbending integrity, Kluge's fierce devotion, and Hecker's iron spirit that had combined to violently destroy everything Kluge had once held as sacred and untouchable…

* * *

_It had taken Roy and Maes less than six hours to cross the Romanian boarder. They had found the little cottage in the countryside just as dawn was approaching, spreading a mauve fog low over the land, the sky clearing and turning many shades of pink, purple and blue._

_Maes hadn't even knocked on the good doctor's door. He barged in and caught the mousey man off guard as he was pouring himself a morning cup of tea. _

_"I beg your pardon, doctor." Maes apologized as he took Hecker by his shoulders. "I hate to do this to you so suddenly, but my comrade and I are here to escort you out of Romania."_

_"Ah. I expected this would come." Dr. Hecker said, his voice hinting at sincere remorse . "I knew the German government wouldn't stand for one of their own tending to the allies. I'm actually surprised they allowed me to continue my work for this long."_

_Siegfried sighed, his whole, willowy body trembling before he looked up at the German officers and properly observed them. It made Roy want to bit his tongue when a light of recognition flashed in the doctor's green eyes. _

_"Lieutenant Colonel…oh, I mean Major General." Siegfried greeted, noting the gold insignia stars and epaulette on Roy's shoulders. "If not for the circumstances, I would be very glad to welcome you."_

_"You don't understand, doctor." Maes interrupted, shaking the man roughly in his panicked exuberance. "Roy and I aren't here to arrest you. Well, those were our orders. You've been declared an enemy of __Germany and will be put on trail for treason. But Roy and I won't let that happen. We'll hide you. Get everything you can carry, everything you think you'll need, and we'll leave!"_

_"But what about you? Won't this be considered mutiny? You'll both be named as deserters and __court-martialed. Your punishment would be worse than mine if you were caught." Dr. Hecker argued._

_"Let Roy and I worry about that." Maes said._

_"I'm sorry, but I won't go."_

_"It's alright, doctor. Roy and I will…"_

_"It's not about you, Second Lieutenant." Hecker interrupted politely. "As long as I can still use my hands, as long as I can still practice medicine, I __**will not**__ leave." _

_"But if you want to keep using those hands to save lives you __**must**__ leave." Maes argued._

_"I'm sorry. I refuse."_

_"Roy, please talk some sense into him!" Maes pleaded, frustrated and wound up with nervous energy. _

_Having stood witness to his best friend's fruitless attempts at moving the doctor into action, Roy shifted his gaze to the pallid man in question. Despite his delicate looking body, pronounced cheekbones, chapped lips, and limp hair, there was a hard, resolute fire that ragged within the man's green eyes. Though he looked like a frail twig, __he had a spine made of a mighty oak. In that single moment, Roy knew that he and Maes would never be able to convince the doctor to go underground. Siegfried would not hide, nor cower, nor deny any soldier from either side of the war his medical knowledge. _

_And no matter how much Maes believed it, if he and Roy failed in bringing Dr. Hecker__ back to Germany, their own lives would be in jeopardy. _

_There was only one way to escape their fates._

_Roy knew it. Siegfried knew it. But Maes…_

_"Go outside for a minute,__, Maes. I'll talk to the doctor."_

_"But Roy…"_

_"That's an order, Second Lieutenant." Roy said sternly. When Maes closed the door behind him, Roy waited a few moments, doing his best to go over the several scenarios in his mind, desperately seeking for any other solution._

_He found none. _

_"I've often wondered about you over this last year." Dr. Hecker began._

_"Do you have any knowledge of allied military tactics or plans?" Roy asked, not inclined to be conversational. He just needed the facts._

_"No." the doctor confessed._

_"None of your allied patients have divulged information to you?"_

_"No."_

_"I believe you." Roy said, but the stiffness in Dr. Hecker's shoulders didn't relax. In a way, Roy felt almost relieved. The doctor truly did understand what had to happen. _

"_If I take you back to Germany, the interrogators won't be as easily convinced as me. You'll be tortured and should you survive that, you'll be put on trail, found guilty of treason and spend the rest of your life in prison. My Second Lieutenant believes he can save you by putting you in hiding…but if we return to our commanding officers empty handed, it'll be our heads up for sacrifice. I…I can't allow that. He's my blood brother."_

_"I understand." Hecker answered honestly. "I know__ what it's like to be a brother."_

_"You won't run away?" Roy asked, making absolutely certain that Siegfried comprehended the consequences of his decision. _

_"I won't deny my calling. I've had three years to run away, Major General. It's too late now."_

_Roy nodded his head as the reality of the situation settled on up like a heavy chain. _

_It was either the doctor's life or Maes's._

_The decision wasn't one Roy had to mull over._

_Turning and taking a few long strides away from the doctor, Roy unholstered his luger and disengaged the safety mechanism._

_"Herr Kluge." Siegfried Hecker whispered, his tone soft and sincere, almost reverent. And then he repeated the sentiment he had placed on Roy the first time they had met. "You're a good man."_

_Roy spun around on his heel, raised his gun, squinted his eyes and pulled the trigger, the echo of the doctor's last words ringing in his ears louder than the blast of the bullet shattering the air. _

_It was strange._

_Roy had killed men at point-blank range, but he had never taken the time to watch one die and appreciate the gruesome, almost tranquil event of the soul leaving the human body. As brittle looking as Siegfried was, the man was not knocked down when the bullet entered his skull, squirting blood throughout the little cottage kitchen and fracturing into tiny, damaging fragments in his brain. He stood for just a moment, eyes locked on Roy's. The Major General watched with respectful horror as the life dripped out of those green eyes, the electricity that raged within them like a lightning storm fading away completely, the deluge of his spirit no longer present in the fleshy shell. As he crumbled down to the floor, a pink hue suddenly colored the doctor's face, making him look more alive in death._

_It was the gasp that jolted Roy to the realization that Maes was behind him, having opened the door to the cottage and allowing the hearty pink __light of dawn to wash the scene. _

_"What have you done?!" Maes roared, rushing to stand over the body. __Siegfried was crumpled on his side, blood pooling around his head, his eyes half-lidded and lifeless, and a strange, out of place grin stretching his lips. He looked peaceful, as if he was secretly glad with his execution. "Dammit, Roy! Why?!" Maes bellowed, shaking his friend, the blunt, painful press of his fingers in Roy's upper arm finally kicking the Major General out of his stunned stupor._

_"I had no choice." Roy began._

_"The fuck you didn't!" Maes cried. "We were going to hide him in Hungary. We were going to keep him safe and alive!"_

_"You know it was impossible, Maes!" Roy argued. "__Grumman and von Hindenburg knew the doctor was in his cottage the moment they sent us here. How could we explain returning without him? If we had, it would be us being sent to Munich in shackles for interrogation."_

_"So you killed an innocent man to save your own skin." Maes concluded with disgust._

_"To save you!" Roy cried, grabbing his friend by the collar. "The interrogations are torture, Maes. They would torture you for days and if you didn't die, they would brand you a traitor and have you imprisoned and possibly executed. I did this to protect you!"_

_"I was prepared to accept the consequences. You know I can take a good beating. I would have survived, and you know that. Don't use me as your shield, Roy. Don't make me your reason for taking an innocent life." Maes growled. "He had a practice, a family…"_

_"This is what happens in war, Maes. You know this! Better for Dr. Hecker to have a merciful death than endless days of pain and torture."_

_"You call this mercy? You killed a man in cold blood, Roy!"_

_A tense silence fell over the __pair._

_In the heat of battle, Roy had faced rainstorms of bullets, tanks, landmines, disease and poison, but he had never felt __such a gripping fear as he did staring into Maes's hard hazel eyes, forced to answer for his crime. Roy knew that he and Maes were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering._

_"Better his life than yours."_

_And just like that, __Roy fell away from Maes, lost to him forever in the dark waters of Siegfried's blood. No years of friendship, no military camaraderie, no bond of brothers, could save the pair. And with Siegfried Hecker's blood staining their boots, Maes Hughes severed the ties that had kept him clasped to Roy Kluge._

_Throwing his commanding officer a look of disgust and__ hard resignation, Hughes walked out of the cottage, already beginning his journey back to Belgium. Kluge stood alone, Siegfried's body laying at his feet like a pagan sacrifice. The doctor's life would never make up for the loss of Hughes, but Kluge believed he could endure simply knowing that Hughes was alive. Though the chains were heavy, Kluge would wear the mantle of murderer. And while Hughes was angry and confused, surely he would come to understand why Kluge had killed Siegfried.._

_Because when he had to choose between the life of his __blood brother and the life of a charitable doctor, it really was no choice at all…_

* * *

Executing Siegfried had saved Hughes's life, of that Kluge had no doubt. He also suspected that Hughes eventually realized this fact, but the insufferable man had made it quite clear that the twenty years of friendship he and Kluge had shared were nothing but meaningless memories. Growing up with Hughes had taught Kluge about the sacred bonds of trustworthiness, loyalty and brotherhood, and to be so thoroughly stripped of those virtues had left the man raped of his belief in any goodness in the world, naked and abandoned in a muddy trench. For a long time, Kluge had hoped that Hughes would come to his senses, but as the years dragged by, Kluge's feelings for his blood brother morphed into black resentment and solidified into unmoving hate.

Kluge had sacrificed everything for the sake of his blood brother and Hughes had compensated by abandoning his friend and forcing him to live alone. Kluge had tried to go on with his life, accepting the colors and honors bestowed on him when the war ended and selecting to remain with the military even after the humiliating compromise Germany had agreed to in the Treaty of Versailles. He was never able to advance past Major General, though, static in his rank, unable to progress or descend. He had no support from his fellow officers, and the only reason General Grummun kept him on was because Kluge did all of the man's dirty work and played a good game of chess.

Without Hughes, Kluge's life had been suspended, with no reason to move forward or back. Discontent and lost, Kluge had become despondent, often finding himself wishing that John had let that sniper's bullet tear through his body so that he could have been spared the agony of living.

But then the Nazi Party had made its foothold in both politics and the military, and Kluge believed he'd found a new purpose. Joining the party had resulted in a demotion in ranks, but Kluge hadn't cared, desperate to find a reason for his miserable life. He had never expected to find that reason on his first mission for the Schutzstaffel…

* * *

_"So you see, Jacob, theoretically, the hydrogen would slow down the neutrons, increasing the nuclear cross section, which would cause an atomic nucleus to collide with the neutrons. And that, my boy, would result in a much lower critical mass. Do you see what I'm saying?"_

_Kluge nodded his head lazily._

_"This is a science that would make man God." the old man continued, his beady scarlet eyes twinkling with a mad energy as he continued to speak of the wonders of this new theoretical formula. "Imagine it. The population of an entire city in the palm of your hands…whoever has the uranium bomb would have the world."_

_"Fascinating, Professor." Kluge said as he sifted through the photographs of the bomb that the old man was praising. Though Kluge wasn't able to fully comprehend the exact science of the uranium bomb he nodded in agreement to everything Professor Spitzer discussed. _

_It had been a month since Kluge was assigned the task of befriending the well known physics professor. The higher-ups in the Nazi party had entrusted Kluge with the duty of learning all he could about a rumored weapon, the uranium bomb. The party had been after information on the bomb for nearly a year, their findings leading them to the Jewish professor, but the old man had denied any knowledge of such a weapon. So, Kluge had been sent in, claiming to be writing a thesis paper for university and seeking a mentor for the project. Kluge quickly learned that Professor Spitzer had an inflated ego and debilitating weakness for admiration. He had steadily plied the old man with praise and finally, after four weeks, Professor Spitzer had given up true evidence that attested to the bomb's existence._

_Kluge studied the black and white print intently, already planning to pocket the photograph when the professor nodded off after their afternoon tea. _

_"Are you familiar with the story of Shamballa, Jacob?"_

_"Shamballa?" Kluge repeated, tasting the foreign word on his tongue._

_"They say that the bomb came from Shamballa. Surely you've heard of the failed attempt by the Thule Society to invade the other world." the professor insisted._

_"I've heard of the Thule Society, but not of this Shamballa." Kluge confessed._

_"No, I suppose you wouldn't have. Their defeat by the people of Shamballa was most humiliating, and the Society was disbanded afterwards…let me tell you about it."_

_Professor Spitzer eagerly launched into an intriguing and outlandish tale about alternate worlds, a utopian society rich with untapped natural resources, a doorway whose key was human sacrifice, a wondrous, magical science called alchemy, and a man with golden eyes._

_"Quite impressive, isn't it?" Professor Spitzer asked when the yarn was finished. __Kluge raised his eyebrows and grimaced. His skepticism was so obvious that the professor smiled and pressed the tips of his fingers together pompously. "It is true, you know. Shamballa is very real. Where else do you suppose that bomb came from?"_

_That statement left Kluge stunned into silence and it was a long while before either teacher or student spoke. _

_"Tell me what you know about nuclear fission." Professor Spitzer suggested._

_"Um…" Kluge stalled, placing the photograph on the coffee table between them and reaching for the teapot. "Oh, no more tea. I'll go make a fresh pot."_

_"Don't demean yourself, boy. Let __**her**__ do it." Professor Spitzer snarled, disgruntled with having his student leave him. Kluge ignored the professor's rude suggestion, taking the tray and empty teapot into his arms before leaving the parlor for the kitchen. "Stupid brat. What's the point of having a useless daughter if not to spare my students such menial chores?" the professor grumbled cruelly, and just as he had been doing since the day of his arrival, Kluge ignored the man's words, though his mind desperately wanted to return to him and beat him over the head._

_When he entered the kitchen, the professor's daughter was already there preparing the tea._

_"Fraulien Spitzer." Kluge greeted, bringing the tray to the counter. "You've been listening to me and your father again."_

_"You wouldn't be able to keep up with my father if I didn't eavesdrop." the young woman quipped, barely smirking as she moved deftly through the kitchen, opening a tin of tea biscuits which she arranged delicately on a platter. _

_Kluge watched the woman work, no longer able to fight the surging warmth that encompassed him like a flame for those few precious moments he was in her presence. She was very pretty, with long, wavy brown hair, a sharp, pointed chin, an intriguing dusting of freckles across her pert nose, eyes that shined like newly mined gemstones, and legs that were long and shapely and left Kluge licking his lips as he wondered what they would feel like clasping his hips. She distracted him completely, leaving Kluge to wonder if he should try to seduce the woman and get her out of his system. It had been quite some time since he had had a good fuck, but for a reason he wasn't prepared to examine, Kluge knew that it would take more than sex to expel Riza Spitzer from his mind._

_She was charming and witty and lovely._

_Oh yes, it would take much more than sex to break Riza's spell. _

_He suspected it was her eyes, deep, rich garnets that held both pain and endurance, and it was that intense strength that intrigued Kluge to pursue a rapport with the woman. However, not all were enchanted with Fraulien Spitzer. _

_The professor abhorred his daughter and the man made no secret of his sentiments. Riza Spitzer, merely by her very existence, incurred her father's vehement disgust. Kluge couldn't understand why the professor was so repulsed by his child when his own feelings were the complete opposite. It was actually quite lucky he was drawn to her, for Riza was an apt pupil of her father's work and she often explained the professor's teachings to Kluge during the brief moments they were able to speak privately._

_She reached across the counter for the bowl of sugar cubes, her skin brushing against him. Kluge took a breath and looked down to admire where they touched and spotted a patch of purple and green against her skin. Frowning, Kluge gripped Riza by her elbow to hold her arm still and roughly forced back the sleeve of her blouse. _

_"It's nothing." Riza exclaimed, not bothering to pull her arm away as Kluge studied the pronounced, ugly bruise that circled her left wrist. _

_"He beat you again." Kluge snarled, infuriated when Riza turned her eyes away from him, shame clouding her expression. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"_

_"No."_

_"Don't lie to me!" Kluge exclaimed, the fire in his belly blazing._

_"I hit him back." Riza snapped as she pulled her arm out of Kluge's grip and resumed preparing the tea. "Didn't you notice father's limping today? I hit him with an encyclopedia." _

_"Dammit." Kluge cursed. He was unable to understand why an intelligent, beautiful woman would remain in a home with her abusive father. While the professor was certainly old, he was not feeble, and his disdain for his only child was often, and thoroughly, expressed with beatings. She deserved better, and although he wasn't sure how he could provide it without failing his mission, Kluge wanted to protect her. "Why do you stay here with him?"_

_"I don't have anywhere else to go, Jacob." she confessed quietly as she poured the hot water into the teapot. _

_"Here." Kluge said, angrily taking a pen and paper and scrawling his address on it before shoving the parchment into the pocket of her skirt. She looked up at him quizzically, capturing him with her garnet eyes. She didn't object when he placed his hand on her hip, holding her for longer than was necessary or appropriate. "You can come to me. I want you to come to me."_

_She seemed to appreciate his words, her hand raising up as if to caress his cheek. But she stopped herself, returning her attention to the tea. Kluge removed his hand from her hip and stood silently by her side._

_"Now, before you go back to the parlor, you'll want to know a bit about nuclear fission."_

_And just as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Riza quickly discussed the basics of nuclear fission in terms Kluge could understand before handing him the tea tray and ushering him back to her father…_

* * *

Kluge sagged in Armstrong's hold, the phantoms of his past striking at him, torturing him more efficiently than any whip, or electric current, or even a uranium bomb ever could. Standing before him, with a gun pointed at the other, were the two reasons Kluge had for existing. Hughes had been his past, his brother, his driving force, solid foundation and encouraging crutch. Eaglewing…Riza…she had become his reason for the man he was. She had become everything, sealing her fate and his the night she'd knocked on his door…

* * *

_Bare-chest and bare foot, Kluge muttered to himself as he stumbled towards his door. The light tapping continued, each rap increasing the man's ire as he fought back the fogginess of sleep. He whipped open the door so savagely the hinges squealed, a string of curses ready to roll off his tongue until he realized who was standing on the stoop._

_"I'm sorry it's so late, Jacob." Riza apologized, clutching at her thin shawl. _

_"Fraulein Spitzer." Kluge greeted. "Come in." _

_She didn't hesitate to enter Kluge's home, her head lowered so that her hair covered her face like a curtain. Immediately sensing something was wrong, Kluge took Riza by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. His mouth pressed into a grim line as he took in her damaged face. Both of her garnet colored eyes were swollen and black, her bottom lip split, and she was rubbing her right side tenderly. _

_"That bastard. I'll kill him." Kluge swore as he roughly sat Riza on a sofa before collecting a cache of ointments, cloths and ice. _

_"He was so drunk tonight. He caught me reading his theories on the properties of atoms and went mad. He…he broke a bottle across my head." she explained, moving to touch the wound. Kluge was quicker, his fingers cradling the back of Riza's skull and discovering a shallow wound. Her brown hair was matted with blood and would have to be washed. He immediately set to work. Neither of them said a word as Kluge cleaned Riza's wounds, and when he was through, she curled into his side as if she belonged there. Kluge placed his arm around her, holding her close, reveling in the peace she brought him with her heat. His barbaric urge to march over to the Spitzer residence and kill the professor, drunk or sober, calmed somewhat as Riza snuggled against him. She was injured and needed him. For the moment, he could think of nothing but her._

_"You're not a physics student, are you, Jacob?" Riza asked suddenly, her voice calm and relaxed. Startled by her question, Kluge looked down at the woman in his arms and noticed she was staring at the front door, a wry smile on her face. Following her gaze, Kluge spotted his uniform jacket hanging on the coat rack. "Is your name even Jacob?" she pressed. _

_Kluge nearly grinned, thinking himself a bit of a fool for believing he could deceive Riza Spitzer. If the woman had known to tutor him in physics when he was claiming to be a student in the field, then surely she had deduced long ago that he was not who he said he was. Squeezing her shoulder, Kluge turned to Riza and found himself absorbed in her eyes yet again, knowing he could trust her implicitly._

_"My name is Roy Kluge. I'm in the military, a member of the Nazi party. Part of the __Schutzstaffel__."_

_"Ah. And why are you pretending to be a student? Or can you tell me?"_

_"I can't tell you exactly." Kluge admitted. "But I can tell you that I've nearly finished my work. I'll be leaving soon."_

_"Oh." Riza sighed, sagging against him, her arm reaching out to rest on his bare chest, over his beating heart. She didn't have to say the words. He knew she didn't want him to go, and when he gripped her shoulder in return, he told her that he wasn't prepared to leave her behind. They looked at one another with naked longing, two souls having found one another in their own bleak worlds. _

_"My father beat my mother to death." Kluge said suddenly. "I won't let that happen to you." _

_Riza didn't reply. She simply continued to look at him, studying his face with those piercing eyes._

_"Your eyes remind me of a hawk's." he admitted, bringing his face closer to hers. She snorted and for the first time since he had known her, Riza Spitzer smiled. Suddenly, the shimmer of her eyes wasn't the most distracting feature on her pretty face. Kluge found himself leaning forward, lips pursed, his intention to kiss her all too clear. Riza didn't fight the pull, turning her face towards Kluge as a tempting invitation._

_And then Kluge stopped, his lips just inches from Riza's, her sweet breath brushing over his face. _

_"I'll take you with me." he swore, getting up from the sofa and moving to the coat rack. Riza looked visibly stunned by the abrupt shift in atmosphere and she remained tense when Kluge returned to her and placed a luger delicately into her hands. "Keep this. Use it if you have to. I promise, Riza, I'll take you away from there."_

_And with that oath hanging over them, Kluge and Riza settled on the sofa to wait out the rest of the night, arms around each other, but no kiss to seal their bond…_

* * *

Overcoming his ghosts and returning his focus to the present, Kluge watched Eaglewing intently, waiting for a sign, a tell, anything to let him know that she was ready for this standstill to come to an end.

"So that's what this is all about." Alphonse sighed. "You're doing this to save her."

"Invading one country just to invade another isn't exactly the trademark of a knight in shining armor." Ed spat. "You'd be just as ruthless as Hitler. Hell, you'd probably be worse."

Kluge glared at the man with golden eyes, remembering all of Professor Spitzer's stories about Shamballa. It was actually thanks to that vile old man that Kluge had first been introduced to the possibilities of the uranium bomb and, eventually, Edward Elric. Thinking about the professor brought Kluge no pain or remorse. Instead, he felt a fierce pride in the woman he had taken such pains to disguise and protect.

She was strong, brave, and more intelligent than her well-remembered, reputable father.

Kluge waited in the circle of Armstrong's hold. He held his breath as he watched Eaglewing, looking for her signal. It was far too subtle for his captors to notice, but Eaglewing shifted her weight, pivoting her left foot slightly, her sharp chin titling and her shoulders tensing as she readying her body to move. Seeing her prepared to put an end to this hostage situation, Kluge moved swiftly, knowing that he didn't have to worry about Eaglewing.

She had proven long ago that she could take care of herself…

* * *

_"You wretched chump! You plebeian! Unappreciative brat! How dare you!"_

_Kluge stood tall and still against Professor Spitzer's insults. He didn't even flinch when the old man yanked at the collar of his uniform, tearing buttons and seams. He understood the professor's anger. After all, the man had just been informed that his student of the last six weeks was nothing more than a spy sent by the Nazi Party to exploit his knowledge. Spitzer was flying into a blind rage, breaking glass trinkets and throwing books around his house as he fumed._

_"So you've come to take my files, then? I won't give them up." the professor promised._

_"I don't need your files, professor. I've already taken what I wanted. I'm here now to take your daughter." Kluge answered calmly._

_"My daughter?! I see. You betray my trust, steal my work, and now you fuck my daughter. What? Did the little slut promise to rouge her knees and open her mouth for you?"_

_Kluge struck out then, backhanding the professor brutally. The old man tumbled and lay prostrate on the floor. He wasn't unconscious, grumbling as he struggled to get up. Kluge spared the man no thought as he walked over him and began to make his way down the hall when something heavy and hard hit him in the back of the head. _

_Pounding, fiery pain engulfed Kluge's skull and he collapsed onto his knees, cradling the back of his head. His eyes burned and he blinked back the sting, trying to regain his senses and focus, but the more he tried, the more the world spun around him. He knew there was danger behind him, could feel the heavy pressing of malice at his back, but he couldn't seem to move fast enough._

_There was a shattering bang that sliced through the room before a fleshy mass fell upon Kluge's shoulders. He struggled against the weight and threw it off of his body only to discover Professor Spitzer limp at his side. The man was dead, a bleeding bullet hole in the centre of his back, a heavy brass ashtray still clutched in his gnarled, claw-like fingers. Stunned, Kluge turned around and almost laughed when he saw the vision before him._

_Riza was standing there like an avenging angle, the luger he had given her one week ago held firmly and professionally in her hands. She had saved him when he had been trying to save her. _

_Getting to his feet, Kluge admired Riza, noting how her face betrayed her relief at finally being free of her sire. Her eyes, sharp and narrowed, just like a hawk's, glowed with victory. But it was her hands, holding steadily to the pistol before lowering to rest calmly at her sides that captured Kluge's interest. _

_They were just like an eagle's wings, strong and sure, spreading out before him like a shield, and saving him from death._

_He couldn't let her go now…_

* * *

"Argh!" Kluge roared, squatting down as he pulled on the arm that the large bald man had secured around his neck. Forcing all of his weight onto his knees, Kluge pushed up and fell forward, dragging Armstrong over his body and throwing him over his shoulder, aiming for Hughes. Armstrong's surprised cry caught everyone off guard and Hughes momentarily broke his concentration as he saw his partner thrown towards him.

That split second of hesitation was all Eaglewing needed. She ducked out of Hughes's grasp and swept her leg out over the floor, striking him across the shins and sending him tumbling down. Hughes reacted automatically, his finger tensing on the trigger and firing, three bullets shooting into the unknown space of the warehouse.

"Down!" Ed cried, placing an arm over Winry's back and forcing her against the ground. Kluge and Eaglewing took advantage of the situation and ran, commander and bodyguard moving to the opposite end of the room.

"Shit!" Hughes cursed, regaining his footing and taking chase. "Get out of here!" the man commanded.

"Al, you, Armstrong and Winry leave right now!" Ed said as he rose to his feet.

"No." Winry answered smartly. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Because this doesn't concern you!" Ed blurted out, regretting his choice of words as the look on Winry's face morphed into a terrible grimace of hurt and fury. "You don't have to get involved in this shit, Winry."

And with those parting words, Ed took off after Kluge, Eaglewing and Hughes.

"Not this time, Ed." Winry muttered as she, too, took chase, leaving Al and Armstrong to contemplate the situation before they also ambled after the others.

* * *

Kluge and Eaglewing raced through the narrow hallway. They had left the warehouse through a pipe channel that led up to the adjacent office building and were now nearly out outside. Kluge wasn't in any mood to celebrate, though, for he could still hear Hughes's persistent footsteps catching up to them. The hallway opened up into a large abandoned lobby. There were boarded up doors that Kluge knew led to the outside, and with Hughes gaining on the pair, the SS commander worked quickly. Together, he and Eaglewing were able to dislodge three boards, just enough for them to squeeze through one at a time.

"Go, Eaglewing." Kluge instructed, pushing the woman through the small gap.

"But sir…"

"Don't argue, Riza!" Kluge hissed, gazing hard into her garnet colored eyes, taking just a moment to touch her cheek and absorb the beauty of her face before pushing her fully through the hole.

"I'm coming back for you." she swore before disappearing into the dark. Kluge didn't dither, knowing it would take more time for him to slither through the small space in the boards. It was time he didn't have, not with Hughes sniffing after him like a bloodhound. Gritting his teeth, Kluge swiveled back and raced for the sound of Hughes's footsteps, prepared to meet the man half-way and face him like a fearless warrior.

Hughes had just entered the lobby opening when Kluge charged into him, sending both men falling to the ground hard. The gun Hughes had been holding flew from his fingers, lost to the dusty, dilapidated darkness of the building and he struggled to reach for Eaglewing's pistol which was still tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Knowing what Hughes was grasping for, Kluge straddled the man beneath him and delivered a blunt punch to the police captain's neck. Hughes gasped, his face going magenta as the wind was severely knocked out of him. Kluge took the opportunity to slip Eaglewing's gun from Hughes and backed away several paces, cocking the weapon and watching as Hughes struggled to get to his feet.

"Roy, enough of this." Hughes gasped, panting heavily. "It'll be over for you."

"When I have the bomb," Kluge began, his voice gravelly and strained, "you'll be the first one I lock up."

"But you won't have time to get the bomb, Roy." Hughes continued. "The Sturmabteilung are suspicious. Luther Austerlitz was sent by them to spy on you and your unit and they haven't heard from him in nearly a month."

This information stunned Kluge as his mind worked to picture the forgettable blond soldier in a brown uniform. The man had been like a shadow, ridiculed and ignored by the Schutzstaffel soldiers that lived in the Fortress…which had likely given him may perfect opportunities to observe, spy and report to his superiors.

"Von Salmon wants to know where his man is, Roy. They're investigating and they'll come for you." Hughes continued as he stared at the commander, his hands raised palm up in subjugation. "It's time to give this up."

Kluge visibly shook at Hughes's words, his mind racing to cling onto the shreds of his plan.

He _had_ to get the uranium bomb. He _had_ to take France. He _had_ to invade Germany and usurp Hitler in the Nazi party. He _had_ to save Riza Spitzer. If he couldn't save her, he would have nothing.

He would become the man Hughes had made him after Siegfried's death. He would be a useless existence, with no meaning in life or death. The bond he had once shared with the man before him had meant more than the world to him in his youth. Looking at Hughes's raised hands, Kluge could just make out the white scar tissue that cut across the police captain's left palm, knowing that same mark was scrawled upon his same palm. That scar had once been a great comfort to Kluge, but after Hughes's desertion, the blemish had only served to remind the bitter man that everything he had put his trust in, his reason for every choice he had made, was meaningless. It had hurt, more than words could express, that Hughes was able to blot Kluge out so easily, and for the last eleven years, Kluge had been tormented by his memories, until he hated Maes Hughes so completely that, given the chance to kill him, he would gladly take the opportunity.

Especially when Hughes was a threat to the only reason Kluge had left.

He aimed the pistol, gave Hughes a final, remorseless glower, and pulled the trigger.

"Ah!"

The high feminine cry shook Kluge out of the clutch of his hatred, and he watched with horror as Winry, the woman who was the key to all of his plans, fell down to the dusty floor, a smoking bullet hole in her chest.

* * *

_Whoa! Intense or what? And now, I've left you with this desperate cliffhanger. However, since you are aware that there are nine more chapters yet to come, you know I can't kill Winry. _

_At least, not permanently._

_Anyway, what I really want to address is the Roy back story. What did you think? You see, I really believe that the reason Amestrian Roy was able to hang on to his humanity was because of the support he had, not just from Hughes, but from all of his subordinates. In his bid to become ruler of Amestris, and thereby put an end to unjust atrocities, Mustang needed the support of others. His bullheaded determination as well as charismatic personality is what drew people to him, and his dream was one which many others wanted to achieve. _

_I have set up my Kluge counterpart to Mustang to be just a shade darker, a degree colder than the Roy we all know and love. Kluge is essentially the heartless man Ed was always imagining Mustang to be. My Kluge character suffered similar moral conundrums as his Amestrian counterpart. He killed a surgeon, an innocent civilian. In many ways, it was a mercy killing, but this act sealed Kluge's fate. He lost his best friend, his conscience, really, and was left to face the harsh politics of the German military on his own. Meeting Riza gave Kluge a new purpose, and while his relationship with her would have started off as romantic, it has bled into obsession. The only thing that drives Kluge is his need to protect Riza from the eventual genocide that he knows is coming. This is why Kluge is desperate to become the Führer. It is not because he holds any real love or sense of justice for the plight of those Germany deems 'ethnically undesirable', but because he has made it his mission to keep Riza Spitzer safe. _

_And the reason he needs the bomb? Remember, Kluge is not the charismatic Roy Mustang. He lost Hughes' respect and support and cannot gain the full trust of those in the upper echelons. The only chance he has of succeeding in his goal of overthrowing the Nazi Party and appointing himself their new leader is to have that bomb. Kluge believes this sort of coup de tâte can only be accomplished if he has the uranium bomb. Thus, we have the reason behind Kluge's personal war against Ed and why he would go to such lengths (such as sacrificing good men to cross a dimensional boarder) to obtain the only thing (person) that might convince Ed to give up the location of the bomb._

_Wow! That was a mouthful._

_And now, to my lovely anonymous reviewers, here is my response to your great comments:_

**roseofsharon28**:_ I've updated as quickly as possible and I really hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I can't wait to read your thoughts on it!_

_And that's it for this chapter. Another one down!_

_As always, I want to hear your thoughts on this latest edition. I know it's a major turn away from my EdxWin focus, but I swear, this is the only chapter that will deal so exclusively with a character other than Ed or Winry. I was really excited to share Kluge's backstory to you, and I hope you've enjoyed it._

_No flames, please and thank you!_

_My greatest, deepest, most appreciative regards and thanks._

**Giant Nickel**


	20. Goodbye

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, but I promise to put everything back right where I found it when I'm done._

**A/N:** _Well, I guess most of you are pretty steamed that I left you with that cliffhanger, huh? Yeah…sorry…sort of. You can't deny, that was a pretty good place to end such an intense chapter, and you must know that Winry isn't dead, so there was no need to be too worried about her. Anyway, that last chapter gave you a very good idea of what makes Kluge tick. And, now that we know what our villain is up to, we can get back to the stuff that truly matters: Ed and Winry. And you know there's gonna be angst. And tears. And hope. So, enough of these author's notes. Get reading!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Goodbye**

_France_

_5. Oct. 28_

***

Hughes caught Winry before she hit the floor, cradling her limp form to his chest like he would his infant daughter. He stared, horrified at the black bullet hole that burned through her coat. His hands groped at her body, unsure of what to do first, feel for a pulse or staunch the flow of blood. If he wasn't so panicked, he might have noticed that there was no blood pulsing out of Winry's body.

Hughes tore his gaze away from her pale face to look into the eyes of the man who had shot her. Kluge had lowered the luger, watching the scene with a morbid disgruntlement. For a fraction of a second, Hughes thought he might have spotted remorse reflected in Kluge's eyes, but that flame quickly flickered out, leaving nothing but a dead black wick. The SS commander looked on the scene with muted upset, more displeased at the complication of his bargaining chip being dead than with any raw feelings of regret.

Hughes gagged, knowing definitively that the Roy Kluge he had known was gone, replaced by a being that was more monster than man. A string of damning curses nearly expelled from the captain's lips, but the sound of screeching tires and a violent yellow light breaking through the cracks in the boards blocking the doorway cut the moment.

"Sir!" Eaglewing cried out from the other side of the wall, and like a sailor beckoned by the siren's call, Kluge went to her, struggling to squeeze his tall body through the narrow fissure and leaving without a glance back.

Hughes couldn't bring himself to take chase so he listened helplessly as the car sped away, leaving him alone in the dimly lit lobby with Winry's body in his arms. She was heavy in his lap, her face ashen, caught in a cold death grip. Cupping the young woman's head in his large palms, Hughes closed his eyes and began to pray.

* * *

Ed hurried down the murky hallway, rushing to where he knew he'd heard a gunshot ring through the darkness. He could hear his brother and Armstrong catching up and that worried him. He could only hear two people.

Where was Hughes?

Where was Winry?

Chasing after Kluge and Eaglewing, the five of them had gotten separated in the vast office building. Ed believed he was close to Kluge when the shot had exploded through the night and the repellent shadow of pessimism taunted him with gruesome possibilities. He ran blindly, his instincts leading him to the cavernous lobby and the crushing reality it framed.

The world stopped as Ed's mind tried to take in the horrible sight. He saw her hair first, a scarf of lemon yellow falling limply over Hughes's arm. Her face was turned towards Ed, as if she'd been waiting for him to arrive.

He always left her waiting.

He knew Winry wasn't moving, didn't even appear to be breathing, and the hole in her coat was all the confirmation he needed to know where the mystery bullet had lodged. Ed's lungs were on fire. He couldn't breathe and fell hard to his knees, his eyes blinking rapidly as if to erase the scene with nothing but his stubborn will and crippled hope.

There was a sound that echoed through the quiet, a strange garbled noise like the whine of a dying animal begging for mercy. It took Ed a few minutes before he realized that the sound came from Alphonse. He felt his brother's presence at his side, anguish dripping off him into a puddle at his feet, and Ed soaked it all in like a sponge, his entire body sagging into a shallow grave of depression.

He'd feared this would happen. It was why he hadn't told her about the weapons.

Having Winry mad at him was a walk on the beach compared to having to confront her still, pale face.

Al and Armstrong lurched forward, flanking Hughes who was still holding Winry tenderly, like a warped Pietà sculpture. The whole scene moved before Ed's eyes like a silent film, both fast and slow, grainy, the edges blurred, mouths moving but no sound, no voices. Ed watched as Armstrong fussed, his forget-me-not blue eyes filling with tears, his large fingers trembling too much for him to find a pulse against Winry's wrist. Al was much more delicate, stroking Winry's hair, just like he used to when they were children. He was whispering to her, his lips making small, harried movements as his fine-boned fingers touched her neck, almost caressing it as he pressed firmly against the skin in search of a pulse.

Al wilted heavily against Hughes, his shoulders shaking violently before he raised his head to look at Ed. Crystalline tears were spilling down his cheeks, making his eyes glimmer like raw gold in a stream, but he was smiling, shouting something to Ed from across the room. Ed couldn't quite shake the buzzing out of his ears, so he strained himself and finally Al's words punched through his cloudy consciousness.

"She's alive!"

Ed groaned pathetically and looked back at Winry's face, gasping when her eyelids twitched before slowly opening. Her eyes looked like sapphires in the dark room, sparkling with pain, confusion and life.

Pushing to his feet, Ed hurdled towards the others, collapsing before Winry. She looked up at him, puzzled, and then a flush of pain colored her cheeks and Winry looked down at her chest where the hole in her coat lay, a beacon to the mystery of her escape from death. Folding back her lapel as if it were made of fragile tissue paper, Ed and the others choked on their gasps when they saw the bullet had pierced through the breast pocket directly over her heart. As ghastly as the sight of the charred hole in Winry's blouse was, it was far too bizarre for there to be no blood. And then Ed's eye caught the glinting wink of metal and a thin chain peeking out from the breast pocket. Carefully, Ed pinched the chain between his automail fingers and pulled.

Armstrong barked with relieved laughter at the revelation and Ed couldn't hold back his own hard chortles. Sitting perfectly in the middle of Luther Austerlitz's pocket watch was the slug that, had it been even a quarter of an inch off centre, would have killed Winry. Prying open the time piece, Ed carefully thumbed the broken clock face. In a flash of foolishness, he thought he saw Luther's face reflected in the silver plated surface, smiling at him.

That was twice now Luther had saved Winry's life. Ed made a vow to pay the man's memory proper tribute in the future.

"Are you hurt, Winry?" Al asked softly, still stroking her hair.

"No." she gasped. "Just sore."

"How sore?" Armstrong inquired.

"Like I've been shot sore." Winry gasped, moving to sit up.

"Take it easy." Hughes cooed, shifting Winry in his arms so that he could carry her properly. He moved to stand and place Winry in Ed's arms, but the young woman linked her hands tightly around Hughes's neck and buried her face against his shoulder. She didn't spare Ed a single glance.

Hughes flashed the elder Elric questioning eyes, but Ed just shook his head, too relieved at the miracle of Winry being alive to be bothered by her obvious snub. He knew she was mad at him and was expecting a difficult confrontation before the night was through. A prickling feeling of dread was slowly crawling across Ed's heart, making it ache with every beat. It felt as if he'd been shot too, and just like Winry, there was no blood, but the injury remained. She was alive, though, and the relief of that precious fact served to momentarily suppress Ed's dreadful anticipation.

Placing a hand on his chest to try and soothe the soreness, Ed held firmly to the life-saving pocket watch and followed the others out of Le Trou.

* * *

"Calm down, Ed. She's alive." Hughes comforted, getting a headache from watching his friend pace the parlor. "Alphonse is taking care of her. Winry's in good hands."

"I know." Ed grumbled, unable to cool his jittering. It had taken them nearly an hour to get back to the townhouse. Noa had been sitting in the kitchen waiting for their return. She'd been worried to see Winry being carried by Hughes and had rushed upstairs to prepare a bed and first aid supplies. Winry had made a fuss, of course, claiming she was a doctor and could treat her own injuries. Ed had thought Winry would cease her stubborn posturing and let him help her, but she brushed him off again, finally conceding to allow Al and Noa to assist her. Ed, Hughes and Armstrong were banished to the parlor.

Ed didn't bother disguising his hurt feelings, and if not for the fact that four children were asleep upstairs, he would have loudly announced his frustration. Instead, he paced, circling the parlor over a dozen times and replaying the images of Winry with a blade at her throat and laying lifeless in Hughes's arms in his addled memory.

"I'm going to kill Kluge with my bare hands." Ed promised, his golden eyes fixated on the ceiling.

"Not if I get to him first." Hughes vowed, doing his best to control his own rage.

"Here, Herr Elric. Captain." Armstrong said as he entered the room carrying two glasses filled with a rich amber liquid. Ed didn't bother sniffing the liquor before taking a large gulp. His eyes watered and he coughed, but the burn of the strong scotch worked its magic quickly and eased Ed's jitters enough that he stopped his pacing.

"Try and look at it this way, Ed." Hughes consoled as he swirled his glass of scotch. "Kluge thinks she's dead. She's safe now."

"Can you be sure?" Ed asked.

"Yes. I looked him in the eye when he did it. He never wanted to shoot her and when he did, he was mad. He wasn't aiming for her…he was aiming for me. She saved my life."

Startled by the revelation, Ed turned to Hughes and watched as the man calmly observed the ice in his glass before tilting his arm and head back, swallowing all of the scotch with a ravenous desperation. Though he seemed outwardly unaffected, Hughes's hazel eyes were far away, traipsing through stormy memories.

"Hughes…I've never asked, and you don't have to tell me, but what happened between you and Kluge?"

"We were friends. Brothers." Hughes admitted immediately, grateful to be getting the details out in the open. "We were a lot like you and Al, but war changes men, Ed. It changed me and it changed him. He…" Hughes paused, grasping for the courage to put Siegfried's murder into words. "He did something, he killed someone, and I lost all respect for him. I didn't know him any more and he didn't know me at all. When the war was over, I went to pay my respects to that man's family…he was Gracia's brother. Ro…Kluge, killed her brother."

Ed bit back a curse, even more infuriated that Kluge's malice had touched Gracia, the last woman in Germany or Amestris who deserved to suffer. An exhausted silence settled over the three men as the past few hours hammered on their minds. Ed continued to look up at the ceiling until Armstrong joked that he would burn a hole through the plaster.

"You should go to her, Herr Elric."

"I'll wait for Al." Ed said, that unsettling ache in his heart increasing in strength with every beat. He honestly wasn't sure how to sort his emotions concerning Winry at the moment. He was ecstatic that she was alive, shaken from the momentary possibility of her death, and furious at her insistent stubborn will to follow him when he ordered her stay out of harm's way. And now, armed with the knowledge that she had actually taken the bullet for Hughes, Ed wasn't certain he could stop himself from strangling the woman.

The fact that she had been put in those hazardous situations because he had broken their promise was a detail Ed didn't even acknowledge.

"You two will have to leave Germany now that Kluge knows you're with me." Ed sighed, his golden eyes shifting between the two men. He would miss them, but Ed was more concerned with Hughes and Armstrong's lives than his own feelings.

"I've already made plans." Hughes said, taking his pocket watch out of his coat pocket and holding it reverently in his palm. "I'm getting too old for this, and I've got a wife and daughter to think about."

Hughes gave his pocket watch a final look of pride and regret before holding it out for Ed to take. Armstrong mirrored the police captain's actions, his silver plated watch glittering in the orange lamplight. By returning the symbol of their alliance back to the man who had gifted them with the message and the mission, Hughes and Armstrong were effectively ending their involvement. Ed understood their reasons and was truly anxious for the two men to make their escape from Kluge's watchful eye, but something inside of him didn't want to completely liquidate the bond they had forged.

"Keep them." Ed insisted. "I mean, they are pretty good watches".

And wherever Hughes and Armstrong went from now on, when they looked at the time they would remember him. He would always remember them. Both men smiled somberly and returned the timepieces to their person.

"So, where will you go?"

"I have a few connections at Scotland Yard. I think Gracia and Elicia will like England."

"My family is in Italy." Armstrong said. "I'll join them at the family home in Florence, maybe try my hand at the life of an artist. I've always been an exceptional sculptor, a talent passed down from my great, great, great, great…"

"Al!" Ed exclaimed as his brother entered the parlor.

"She's fine." Al said before anyone could ask. "She's got an ugly bruise and some chest pains, but I think it's mostly from the trauma. She's in bed…"

Ed didn't need to hear another word of Al's diagnosis. He hurdled out of his chair and raced out of the room, his uneven footfalls thundering up the stairs. Al grimaced as he turned to stare at the expectant captain and inspector.

"She's mad at him." Al explained. "Really mad."

"Then I guess that's our cue to exit." Hughes replied as he and Armstrong headed for the door.

"I shall miss you, Young Alphonse." Armstrong confessed, teary-eyes sparkling as he captured the youth in a crushing embrace. "Be well!" the large man cried as he turned to leave. Al clapped Armstrong on the back and wished him the best, dabbing futilely at his own tears. As Alexander Armstrong was swallowed up by the night, Hughes stood by Al for a moment, wanting to hold on to their closeness a little longer. Both men knew it was likely they would never see each other again and it was painful to consider.

Hughes moved first, extending his hand to Al. The seventeen year old smiled sadly before reaching for Hughes and pulling him into a hug. Hughes returned the gesture, squeezing Al tightly and fighting the sharp nip of tears. He didn't want his last memory of Alphonse Elric to be blurred with sadness.

"I wish I could do more for you." Hughes admitted. "I want to continue helping."

"You've done more than enough."

"Mmm." Hughes grunted, not sounding terribly convinced with Al's assurance. "You'll tell Winry…tell her 'thank you', for me."

Al nodded, patting Hughes on the shoulder to help ease some of the man's guilt.

"Gracia's expecting again." the police captain suddenly announced.

"That's wonderful!" Al exclaimed. "Congratulations."

"If it's a boy…we were thinking of naming him Alfons."

Al was deeply touched and smiled. "He would be honored."

The seventeen year old understood that Hughes was, in his own way, asking for a blessing. After all, the name belonged to the man who had been Al's double, a human being whose unjust death made it possible for Al to cross the Gate and exist in this world. Though he had never known the man, Al had felt a connection to him and the hearty humility that warmed his core could only mean that Alfons Heiderich approved of Hughes's decision.

"Goodbye, Al."

"Goodbye, Hughes."

And with those simple, softly uttered words, Hughes turned away and disappeared into the early morning darkness, a hand raised up in a final gesture of farewell. Al bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to let melancholy sour the moment. He knew, in an unexplainable prophetic way, that he would never seen Maes Hughes again. He had never been able to have final words with the Hughes he had known in the Amestrian military, and so Al took some solace in the fact that, by bidding the police captain farewell, he had finally been given the chance to say goodbye.

* * *

Winry hissed as she adjusted herself against the pillows. Although she wasn't hurt anywhere else but the plum colored, fist sized bruise on her chest, every muscle in her body ached, a natural reaction from the rigorous tension she had been under over the last twenty-four hours.

And the difficulties were far from over.  
She could hear Ed coming up the stairs and knew he would barge into her room in a few moments. Swallowing thickly, Winry clung to her anger, allowing it to fold over her and act as a shield, protecting her from all of the tender feelings she held towards Edward Elric. She couldn't let her love for the golden eyed man make her deter from her decision.

Holding her breath, Winry waited for Ed to come, thinking quickly about the little time she had spent with Al in her bedroom after they had returned from Le Trou…

* * *

_Noa had just left, spouting a rushed excuse about trying to mend Winry's damaged blouse and coat. In all honesty, Winry could care less if she ever saw the clothes again. She was well aware that Noa was simply looking for a quick escape and she didn't blame the Roma woman one bit. _

_If the bullet hole wasn't enough of a clue, the tension between Winry and Al was so transparent that Noa didn't need her clairvoyant gifts to realize that something serious had transpired. She was leaving to give the pair a chance to speak privately and as Winry was in a desperate need to speak to both Elric men, she was grateful for Noa's intuition. Besides, Winry was much more inclined to talk with Al first. _

_The young Elric was sitting a the foot of her bed, busying himself with tucking the heavy quilt around her legs, waiting for her to break the silence. _

_"You knew all about Ed's plans. You knew he was keeping a secret from me."_

_The trembling timbre in her voice ceased Al's nervous movements. He slowly nodded his head before bravely looking her in the eye._

_"We've been looking for Kluge's storehouse for over a year. When we made arrangements to get the kids out of Europe and then learned of another of Kluge's weapons shipments being moved out of Freiburg…the timing just worked out."_

_"And you never told me." Winry pressed._

_"I told Ed to tell you. I got mad at him, too. But then we learned that Kluge had changed his shipping date and it threw everything off so there was no reason to say anything. And then Kimblee came after us and we ended up on that train and it was dumb luck it was the shipment train and…I'm sorry." Al gushed, unable to hold back his emotions concerning the entire situation._

_"You should be sorry." Winry snarled, immediately regretting her words when Al winced. She never wanted to hurt Al, but he had to know how upset she was. "I can't understand why you wouldn't tell me. I told you Ed had promised to stop keeping secrets from me and now he's done this and you knew the whole time!"_

_"I didn't know what to do!" Al confessed desperately. "He's my brother. You're my best friend, Winry, but…he's my brother."_

_Winry bit her lip and turned away from Al, ashamed of herself. She had grown up with the Elric brothers, her first hazy memories dotted with their golden hair and large grins__. She had been invited and welcomed into the Elrics' intimate circle of brotherhood, a member of their band who was privy to the same loyalties, truths and bonds they shared. But Winry had always been keenly aware of the special connection that looped around the brothers. It did not mean her bond to them was any less vital or strong, only different, and whether or not Winry was with Ed as his friend, mechanic or lover, she would never come between the Elrics._

_She would never want to. _

_She only wanted to be a part of that tie, a link in the chain. _

_At the moment, she felt as if she was nothing more than useless scrap metal. _

_"Did Noa know about the storehouse?" Winry wondered, finally daring to look Al in the eye again__._

_"Yes. __I told her everything when Ed and I first came up with the idea."_

_"That's good, Al. She's your wife. You should tell her these sorts of things." Winry amended, hoping her words sounded comforting despite the fact that she was warring within herself. Silently, Winry fought the hand of jealousy that was trying to squeeze all compassion out of her heart. Al trusted his wife, he confided in her. Noa had known about the storehouse and was better prepared to deal with the repercussions of Ed and Al's discoveries. For Winry, everything was so new and raw that it was a wonder she could even think at all. She didn't doubt that Al trusted her just as much as he trusted Noa, but Al would not betray his brother's wishes, and so he had kept quiet about Kluge and the weapons. Knowing this made forgiving Al far too easy, but then again, Winry had never liked being cross with Al._

_She was still a convoluted crush of too many emotions, __only truly aware of two things: she was not nearly as mad at Al as she was with his brother, and there was something very painful she had to do that night before she lost her courage. _

_"Don't be too __angry with brother. He didn't want to see you get hurt. First with Kimblee and now twice with Kluge…he wanted to protect you." Al explained, offering the bedridden woman a gentle, hopeful smile. Winry couldn't find the bravado to smile back and offer Al some reassurance, and the seventeen year old's lips relaxed into a grim line before he rose from the bed and left the room. Winry watched him go, wondering if once she had completed the difficult task before her, Al would still be able to smile at her…_

* * *

Ed entered the room frantically, gripping the doorframe so that his broad shoulders filled the gap. He appraised her quickly, his eyes stalling on the bit of purple that was revealed by the open neck of her nightgown. For a moment, it looked as if he had been about to smile with relief, but as quickly as a tornado cuts through a village before vanishing back into the clouds, Ed's attitude changed, becoming dark and angry.

Winry tilted her chin defiantly, feeding off of the man's ire.

It was better if this unpleasantness was done while he was mad, it would hurt less.

"You took that bullet for Hughes." Ed growled, stepping into the bedroom and shutting the door. "You almost got yourself killed taking a bullet that wasn't even meant for you!"

"What did you want me to do?! Let Kluge shoot him?!" Winry barked back, moving to cross her arms. She gasped when her bruise rubbed uncomfortably, sending a needle sharp jab of pain through her heart and up her spine. Ed was at her side instantly, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to help her but unsure of where to touch. "Do you remember how it felt when you found out the Mr. Hughes we knew had been killed?"

Winry whispered.

Ed frowned, nodding his head, recalling the terrible shock followed by crushing betrayal he had experienced when he'd learned Winry had known of the murder and hadn't told him. He'd been hurt that she had kept such a secret from him, and knew that she was likely feeling that same hollowness.

"I couldn't let it happen again." Winry confessed, her eyes large and nearly black, forcing Ed to stare at her and understand what had motivated her to jump in front of that bullet. "He has a family. Gracia and Elicia…I was with them when I went back to Central. I saw what their lives had become without him. I couldn't…I wouldn't let that happen. Not again. I know Kluge isn't Roy Mustang but he looks just like him and…can you even imagine what it seemed like?"

Ed's eyes lowered as he easily pictured the surreal vision Winry must have witnessed when she stumbled upon Hughes and Kluge. To see two men who, in their world, had been more like brothers than military comrades, facing off, one willingly about to kill the other, would have been devastating. Had he gotten there first, Ed knew he would have made the same foolish, impulsive decision Winry had, only he wouldn't have had a lucky pocket watch to protect his heart. Ed removed that miraculous watch from his pocket and placed it on the nightstand. Winry regarded the timepiece glumly, skimming over the dented cover and damaged plating.

"You should have told me." she stated lowly. "You promised me."

"I didn't want you to get hurt. And look what happened! You were shot, Winry. Not just that, Kluge got you. He held a knife to your throat…" Ed reached out with his flesh fingers to brush at the nearly invisible puncture wound on Winry's neck. She turned away from his touch before directing a scathing glower at him. Ed's fingers froze in the air, his searing liquid gold eyes challenging her hard sapphire ones. "Kluge would have killed you."

"I know that."

"Then I was right! Getting you involved only got you into trouble."

"I _am_ involved. The whole reason I'm even here is because I'm _involved_." Winry countered. "Learn to accept that, Ed. You broke your promise. You hurt me."

"I know, Win, and I'm sorry…"

"You're always doing this to me." Winry accused. "You left home for four years without a single call or letter. You made me leave you while you and Al went to Ishbal. You came home as a wanted criminal and left in disguise without telling me anything about what you were doing and then disappeared…you never told me you had a son until you had no choice. You never tell me anything, Edward, not even that you don't want me included in your life."

Winry took a shuddering breath, pressing herself painfully against the headboard as the memory of every hurt Ed had committed against her beat upon her with fresh aggressiveness.

"That's bullshit, Winry and you know it." Ed barked. "I want you in my life."

"Edward…"

"I care about you, woman. Even when I was just a fucking stupid kid, I cared. You didn't need to have my burdens on your shoulders. You'd already given me an arm and a leg. That was enough. Besides, now you know the danger Al and I were in. I didn't want you anywhere near it. I'd already lost my mother. I wasn't going to lose you."

"Don't turn me into your great cause, Ed." Winry snorted, her lip curling at the implication. "I'm not some perfect image you can hold in your head. I'm real."

"I know!" Ed yelled, smashing his fist onto the mattress and leaning forward, his body trapping hers.

He could smell the salve that had been rubbed onto her bruise and the barest hints of lavender soap clinging to her unbound hair. Her skin glowed in the orange lamplight. Her lips were pink and shimmering and Ed found himself wanting to kiss her more terribly than he ever had before, bewitched by her very presence, entranced by the mere fact that she was _alive_ when she should be dead. Ed didn't know what he could have ever done in his life to deserve Winry or the wealth of chances they had been given.

"I'm sorry I broke my promise, but I did it to keep you safe."

"That's hardly the point!"

"It's the only point!" Ed countered furiously. "You say you're real. Well, real people die, Winry, and if I can prevent that then you need to know I'll do everything I can to try. So if breaking a promise to you meant that you'd still be breathing, then I'll break them all."

"And what ended up happening, Ed? I followed you and was nearly killed twice."

"Because you _followed_ me."

"Because you wouldn't _tell me_ what you were doing!" Winry bellowed, leaning heavily into the space Ed was occupying, commanding a jolting retreat by the golden eyed man. "I knew you were keeping something from me. I gave you so many chances to tell me, but you were your usual pig-headed, asshole self and slunk away in the night like a crook."

"If I had told you anything," Ed started, his teeth bared and eyes narrowed into tight, angry slits, "you would have insisted on coming along. You never listen to reason, Winry."

"You never give me a choice." Winry countered. "You're always telling me what to do, you never ask me."

"And what was I supposed to say? '_Gee, Win, Al and I are about to sneak into a highly secret artillery shed belonging to Kluge and we may not come back alive. Please stay here and don't wait up!_'. I'm not an idiot. You'd never listen."

"How could you know that if you never ask? You have to trust that I'll make the right decision. You have to trust _me_!" Winry pleaded, looking Ed in the eye and imploring him to understand exactly what he had done to injure her. "Would it be better if you got hurt instead of me?"

"Yes!" Ed admitted chaotically, huffing. He was frazzled from the whole evening's events, exhausted, upset and relieved. He just wanted to curl up beside Winry and hold her as they slept, but she wouldn't have that. Penetrating Ed with her blue eyes, Winry continued to speak.

"Don't forget, you have a son, Ed. What's Eddie supposed to do if you get yourself killed on one of your fucking crusades? You can't just keep going out into the world looking for trouble. You have people here who love you…people you have responsibilities to. Eddie's not Al, he's just a baby. Think about what would happen to him, how hurt he'd be if you left and didn't come back."

A silence filled the space between the two adults as Ed registered the horrific reality Winry had painted. Of course, Ed had considered of his son. His every thought was touched by Eddie, motivating his actions. After all, if Ed didn't try to stop Kluge, the world Eddie would be faced with would be a dark one indeed. Still, Ed admitted to himself that it wasn't very often that he contemplated his possible death when he went out on his missions. He wouldn't be able to take one foot out the door if he did.

"When we go back to Berlin I'm going to find my own place." Winry mumbled, her chin tucked into her chest, eyes shielded by her bangs.

"What?" Ed whispered.

"I'm going to move out of your apartment and find my own."

"You can't! You don't know your way around this world." Ed argued frantically. "How the hell would you survive?"  
"I've managed to survive on my own before." Winry said, not needing to elaborate that she was referring to the times Ed had been absent from her life in Amestris.

"I came here willingly." she insisted softly. "I wasn't driven because those men were after me. I came here because Mr. Austerlitz told me I would get to be with you. I love you, and I wanted to see you again."

Ed held in his gasp, his entire body going stiff at Winry's confession. It was the first time either of them had ever mentioned love, and while Ed was more than willing to accept that emotion and all that came with it, he was terrified of the direction the conversation was going.

If she loved him, why did she want to leave?

"I love you, Ed." Winry declared, finally turning to face him. There were tears falling from the corners of her eyes, slipping down her nose and chin. "But I can't do this to myself anymore."

She picked up Luther's pocket watch from the nightstand and handed it over to Ed, forcing him to accept the parting gift.

"You can't…"

"I can." Winry said, the words just as much for herself as they were for Ed. She continued to stare at him, watching every nuance of Ed's face from the way his eyes crinkled to how his nostrils flared. His square chin looked as if it might be twitching and his mouth was an immovable, grim line. For a moment, her words caught in her throat, and Winry wondered if she should take everything back.

But she couldn't continue to torture herself.

She couldn't be with him if he didn't trust her.

It would never work.

Fortifying the impersonal wall she had erected to keep her love for Ed from trampling on her rationale, Winry straightened her back and spoke in a dead, even tone.

"Goodbye, Edward."

The dismissal was clear. Ed wasn't even certain he was in full control of his body as he moved to stand up from the bed, his fingers clutching at the pocket watch Winry had returned to him. Her words didn't enter his brain. Instead, they circled around his head like pecking vultures, following him as he left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He vaguely heard Winry's stifled crying and almost turned back to comfort her before it truly struck him that she had told him she didn't want him.

It was like seeing Winry laying limp in Hughes's arms all over again. The world around him became a strange, blurry reality that he felt completely detached from. Ed walked down the hall, not sure where he was headed until he found himself crawling into his son's bed, the little boy cracking open one groggy golden eye.

"Daddy?" Eddie yawned, turning onto his side so he could properly look at his father.

Ed didn't say a word. He just made himself comfortable on the bed, curling his body around his child as he rested his head on the pillow. His flesh arm circled around the three year old's shoulders and Ed hugged Eddie tightly.

"Something wrong?" Eddie wondered, slightly alarmed. "Yous crying. Did you gets a boo-boo?"

Ed gasped as Eddie's little fingers moved to touch the moist trails that Ed hadn't even realized were cascading down his face. He tried to answer his son, but when he opened his mouth his lips began to quiver and he couldn't make the words come out. The blow of abandonment stung Ed so much that he felt both swollen and deflated, incapable of even the most basic of human functions.

As Eddie continued to look at his father with large, concerned golden eyes, Ed managed to nod at his boy's question.

"Where does it hurt?"

Swallowing his misery, Ed patted his chest, directly over his heart. The ache that had started when they were leaving Le Trou had expanded and strengthened, forcing Ed's heart to beat erratically just to sustain his life. Eddie offered his father a sympathetic smile before leaning forward to press a kiss to where Ed had indicated he was injured. More tears streamed out of Ed's eyes and he nearly let out a high sob at the wonderfully innocent gesture.

"Kisses make it better." Eddie consoled, reminding Ed of the many times he had shared that same sentiment with the child when he had scraped his knee or bumped his head. They were words of wisdom passed down from Trisha Elric, and Ed found himself wishing desperately for his mother for the first time in countless years. The sudden wish to have his mother back was like a vice on Ed's soul, and he buried his nose in his son's hair to quell the sharp emotions that attacked him. Eddie patted his father on the cheek, acting more like the adult than the child, and Ed accepted his son's comfort gratefully, eventually falling into a light sleep with visions of blue eyes disappearing into the fog of his dreams.

* * *

_France _

_9. Oct. 28 _

***

"Daddy says he's gonna take me everywhere!" Eddie bragged delightedly, flipping through one of the flimsy alchemy manuals Winry had kept tucked away in her toolbox. "I gonna miss everyone. I wish they could stay."

"Me too." Winry agreed softly as she watched Eddie thumb through the manual, his golden eyes scrutinizing a diagram of a transmutation circle before giving up and moving on to the next picture. Winry wondered momentarily if the child understood the strange circles and runes, but quickly dismissed the outrageous thought. She shifted her gaze to look out the window, noting the bright, cloudless sky and pure rays of white sunlight. It was a good day to go on an adventure, and for three youngsters, the beginning of their next great venture was waiting in the depths of the French capital.

The day of Paz, Ruth and Yafit's departure had finally arrived and a noticeable blanket of sobriety had covered the townhouse, filtering through every room and working its way into the heart of all those who lived inside. Even Eddie, who didn't fully understand the reasons behind the children's leaving, was somewhat gloomy.  
"Why won't you come?" Eddie asked sullenly, pushing the manual aside and imploring Winry with his large golden eyes.

"I can't come." Winry amended. "I'm not feeling very well."

It wasn't a complete untruth. Although it had been five days since she'd been shot at, the bruise on Winry's chest was still tender, the black purple having faded into a muddy green and colic yellow. Her body was not longer sore and the headache that had assaulted her during her long hours of bed rest wasn't even a memory. However, an anxious quivering had began fluttering in the depths of Winry's belly for the last five days, assaulting her constantly and leaving her in a state of near nausea. She hadn't been sleeping well, hardly eating, and making conversation with the others in the townhouse seemed to exhaust a great effort from the mechanic.

There was also the exerting stress of avoiding Edward.

Not that it was a very difficult task. Ed had been generous in leaving Winry alone, his silhouette never darkening her door, his voice never reaching her ears, his smell never invading her senses. He hadn't been to see her, not once, in five days. Physically he had vanished, but his palpable spirit was alarmingly tangible and although she couldn't see him, Winry could feel Ed's presence everywhere.

When she had said goodbye to him on that dark morning, she had meant it. Winry was cutting off ties with Edward, refusing to let her past keep her captive. She had decided she needed to be free of Ed because without him the constant ache of his neglect, his crossed loyalties and his obvious lack of trust in her simply had to come to an end.

And it had.

But a new pain immediately took place within Winry's heart. Where once there had been a terrible, full burning fire, an echoing hollowness, like a deep, dripping well with no water at the bottom had taken residence within her. There was no joy or misery, just a numb nothingness that had transformed the automail mechanic into someone she didn't recognize. There were no feelings that existed within her save the vast emptiness and a gnawing, ravenous desire to see Ed again.

From the moment he had left her bedroom she had wanted to see him again, and for five days she suffered as he steadfastly avoided her. Without him, Winry had been able to do little else but replay the scene of rejection in her head over and over, remembering how his face had fallen, thinking his expression reflected how she felt. She had been hurting so badly that night, her emotions in a terrible frazzle and she wanted him to hurt just as much. She had succeeded, it seemed, and rather than make a temperamental entrance, rant and carry on, or even tread on the dangerous waters of Winry's patience, Ed had respected her goodbye and had left her completely alone.

'_I thought the reason I came to this world was because I didn't want to be alone anymore',_ Winry thought pathetically.

Her sharp words had been emotionally driven and charged. Winry knew this and had been cursing herself ever since, wishing she could yell at the top of her lungs for all the house to hear that she was sorry she had hurt Ed, that she wanted him to come to her, that they needed to talk…

"Winnie?" Eddie suddenly asked, crawling up the bed so that he was sitting in front of her. "Do you gots a boo-boo like Daddy?"

"Where does your daddy have a boo-boo?" Winry asked a bit shrilly, her mind jumping to terrible conclusions of Ed being ill or injured. Was that why he hadn't tried to see her? Why hadn't Al told her Ed was hurt? The empty well inside of Winry began to rapidly fill with panic and concern, the first real feelings she had experienced in five days.

"He said he hurts here." Eddie explained easily, pointing to his chest and the spot directly over his heart.

Winry hiccoughed on her relieved moan, a new surge of feelings bursting through the stone well, seeping through the seams and rising up until it overflowed. She wouldn't cry in front of Eddie, though. Her tears would just distress the boy further. For that quick, unexpected moment when Winry had worried Ed was seriously harmed, she had forgotten why she had rejected him in the first place, only wanting to see him and touch him and kiss him and tell him she was sorry, that they could work out their trust issues together…

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to regain control of her splintered feelings when she felt Eddie's chubby little hand pat her own clasped fingers on her lap.

"You do hurt there." he stated before moving to place his head against Winry's belly, curling around her like a tawny tabby cat. "Maybe if Daddy asks you that question you'd get better." Eddie reasoned.

Taking several deep breaths, Winry began to stroke Eddie's soft golden hair, accepting his comfort, her movements immediately beginning to soothe her chaotic emotions and allowing her logic to come to the forefront of her thoughts.

Ed didn't trust her, that much was clear, and Winry knew she couldn't be with him until he did. They should talk, like they had the night back in Berlin. But there was a warning shred of doubt that continued to attack Winry, whispering that Ed hadn't changed from the brash, selfish boy she had known all her life and that he would never trust her.

Perhaps she was right to refuse him.

Perhaps everything was for the best.

"Knock, knock."

Looking at the open doorway, Winry tried her best to grin welcomingly at Noa as she stood in the frame.

"It's time to go." the Roma woman said, her voice little a difficult to hear. "Come on, Eddie."

"OK." the child agreed. "Yous gonna get better, right Winnie?" Eddie asked as he ambled off the bed and made his way towards his aunt. Unable to find strength in her voice, Winry just nodded, flashing Eddie her best smile. Waving, Eddie skipped out of the bedroom and hopped down the stairs.

"I don't think we'll be long." Noa said. "You don't mind being alone for a while, do you?"

"I'll be fine." Winry insisted weakly. "Don't forget to make him wear his wig."

"I think I'll leave that task to his fath…sorry."

"It's alright." Winry lied.

"He's been very quiet this last week…Winry, do you think perhaps…"

"I don't know." Winry sighed. "But I think maybe this is how it should be. I can't be with him if he doesn't trust me and I don't know if he ever will. So…I just don't know."

Noa nodded, unable to provide words of wisdom to her friend. Silently, the Roma woman turned and left the room. Al was waiting for her at the door, having just managed to shrug Eddie's dark wig on so the boy could bound outdoors and join his father and the others.

"She's not coming." Al stated disappointedly as he handed Noa the large yellow envelope of paperwork. Noa shook her head, confirming her husband's suspicions. Al frowned, distressed by the painful animosity between his brother and friend, wanting to help but knowing there was nothing he could do. It wasn't his fight, it wasn't his issues, and it wasn't his heart.

"The taxi's here." he said, offering Noa his arm as they walked out the door. He could see his brother sitting in the taxi, Eddie cuddled on his lap while the other children waited nervously for their journey to begin. Ed's face behind the window was smooth and stoic, an expressionless vision that could only be properly discerned by a brother.

Al knew what had happened between Ed and Winry, having been told by the mechanic herself when Al had asked if she knew why Ed was acting despondent. Because of her rejection, Ed had been in a strange state for the last five days, eating, drinking, talking and playing as usual, but with a noticeably absent gusto that had made him glow with an inner fire. It was as if the flame in Ed had been stomped out and truly, Al knew that Winry was the only fuel that could return life to that unstoppable blaze.

He would have to trust Ed and Winry would mend their own wounds.

In the meantime, however, there was a more pressing matter to consider. The time had come to deliver Paz, Ruth and Yafit to their new families. It was the children that mattered now, and locking away his hopes for his brother and best friend, Al helped Noa into the cab and prepared himself for the moment he had been dreading.

The moment of separation.

* * *

"There they are." Ed pointed. Everyone paused as their eyes found the small cluster of five people seated at a table in the outdoor courtyard of a café on Rue St. Louis. Ed waved, a seam of his automail becoming exposed in the space between his glove and cuff. The glint of sunlight off the metal is what drew the attention of the tall, lanky man at the table and he waved back at Ed with an anxious grin.

"Well, let's go." Al suggested, leading the way, Yafit's hand clutched in his. Both Elrics didn't fail to notice the dragging, painfully tentative footsteps of the children and Noa. They had been on a long journey together and had finally reached the end, only none of them were quite ready to let go. Often, things done for the best were the most difficult to see through. Ed and Al knew this better than any two men in existence which is why they continued forward, urging the others along until they had reached the five people waiting for them.

The man who had waved at Ed was a plain looking fellow who seemed to be in his early thirties. He had wavy brown hair that was thinning and swampy green eyes which stood out remarkably against his sun-kissed skin. He smiled easily and reached for Ed's hand, shaking it gladly.

"Good to see you again, Edward."

"You too, Jack."

"This is my wife, Jenny." Jack introduced, moving to stand behind the plump and girlishly pretty red head that looked as if she was wearing her best Sunday dress. She smiled widely, her cherry red lipstick drawing attention to her mouth, and she shook Ed's hand vigorously.

"So good to finally meet you." she chuckled nervously, her grey eyes darting to the four children who had shied behind Noa's full skirts.

"Ahem."

Jumping like a twitchy horse, Jenny turned her attention to the three people who were waiting anxiously for their proper introductions.

"Oh dear, how rude of me!" Jenny apologized. "Mr. Elric, these are our friends Jack wrote you about, William and Eloise Trumann. And this is their son, Daniel."

"Bill is what most call me." Mr. Trumann said as he moved to shake Ed's hand, his movements choppy due to the cane he relied heavily on. Ed recalled that Jack had explained in a letter that Bill suffered from childhood polio, his left leg badly crippled by the disease. However, the handicap had only proved to mould Bill into a strong willed, good hearted man and Ed was able to easily read those traits in the man's green eyes. He was strikingly handsome, with a wide upper body and thick, straight black hair. His son, Daniel, had inherited his father's good looks and though he couldn't be older than fourteen, he stood almost as tall as his father's six foot frame. Eloise Trumann appeared just as her name sounded, graceful. Where Bill was hard and angular, she was soft and curved, her strawberry blond hair styled in a fashionable bob and her doe brown eyes and oval face in no need of the cosmetics that Jenny required to highlight her natural beauty.

It was hard to believe she was a farmer's wife.

"It's good to meet you." Ed greeted before turning to his own brood. He clapped Al heartily on the shoulder. "This is my brother, Alphonse, and his wife, Noa. Al, Noa, this is Jack Cunningham. I met him seven years ago at a rocket facility in Munich. Jack's a pretty accomplished engineer."

"Don't start flattering me. I wouldn't be an accomplished anything if you hadn't saved me from that factory fire."

"Fire?" Al questioned with mild concern.

"It wasn't anything major." Ed brushed off as he rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Some rocket fuel ignited and there was an explosion."

"Explosion!" Al echoed.

"I got caught under a model combustion engine. I couldn't get out, everyone was panicking and running away, but Edo here helped me. Lifted that bloody machine just enough so that I could crawl out. Got your prosthetic arm pretty damaged, too, but it looks like you've got a better replacement now." Jack observed.

Ed reached with is left hand to grip his automail wrist and squeezed, as if he were squeezing out the memory of the woman who had made it for him.

Now was not the time to dwell on Winry.

This moment belonged to the children.

"I would just like to thank you, Mr. Elric." Jenny Cunningham suddenly whispered, her grey eyes looking longingly at the children who were still cautiously standing behind Noa's skirts. "Jack and I can't…and trying to adopt in California has been so hard, all the legal red tape, you know. But we can help these children, give them a home…keep them safe…"

"I'm the one who's grateful." Ed answered seriously. "You're the ones willing to do this. You're the ones who can." He nodded his head at both families before turning to address the children. Smiling gently, he crouched down and held out his hand. "Would you like to meet the Cunninghams and Trumanns?"

Four pairs of eyes examined Ed critically before Paz bravely stepped forward, his small suitcase of possessions clutched tightly in his hands. Yafit and Eddie were quick to follow the older boy, their curiosity soon overwhelming their fear. Ruth was the last to step before the families, her small hand reaching for Paz's and gripping his fingers tightly, her stern features expressing her immediate distrust.

"Oh my!" Jenny exclaimed, getting down on her knees so she could properly welcome the children. Jack and Bill smiled kindly, their eyes glowing with honest gentility. Eloise and Daniel had taken eager steps forward, the teenager nervously fiddling with something in his pocket. "Hello." Jenny cooed.

"I thought you'd said three children." Eloise whispered. "Of course, four isn't a problem at all. We have lots of room."

"Oh! No…" Ed stuttered, reaching for Eddie and lifting the boy into his arms. "He's with us."

Eloise gave Ed a soft, questioning look before she smiled knowingly. Although Eddie was wearing his dark wig, his golden eyes had likely given his paternity away. Ed sighed in relief when Eloise didn't press the issue and returned her full attention to the three finely dressed and worried children before her.

"You didn't say there'd be two families." Ruth fretted loudly, flashing Ed, Al and Noa an angry frown. "Who goes with who?"

A silence fell over the group at Ruth's outburst. Paz and Yafit turned their own questioning stares at the adults, demanding answers.

"You know," Bill started, "Jack and I are best friends. We live pretty close, and visit every Sunday."

"So we'd still get to see each other?" Yafit checked.

"Everyday if you'd like." Jack assured. The six year old bit her lip and swiveled on the spot before making up her mind.

"OK. I'll go." she decided, taking a brave step forward. Fingers fisted in her skirt, Yafit took a dramatic deep breath before a waterfall of words fell from her rosebud lips. "My name is Yafit Miriam Rabinovitch. I'm six years old and my birthday is February twelfth. I can read and spell and I just lost my first tooth, see!"

She smiled wide to proudly display the empty space in her gums. Jenny swallowed a delightedly laugh, her hands flexing at her sides as if she were trying to stop herself from leaping forward to take the little girl into her arms. Being over exuberant would likely scare the girl.

"Would you like to come live with me and Jack?" Jenny asked politely.

"Could they come?" Yafit wondered, pointing to Ruth and Paz.

"Actually, we were hoping the other young lady would like to join us. We've always wanted daughters." Jack offered, smiling sympathetically at Ruth.

Ruth had the appearance of a fox cornered by bloodhounds, her whole body tense, eyes darting every which way, her hand gripping tightly to Paz's. As for Paz, his own hand was rather lax, his fingers curled protectively around her palm but not in a hard death grip.

He was willing to let her go if she wanted.

"Paz would go with you, then?" Ruth asked, addressing Bill, Eloise, and Daniel.

"We have a room already prepared. We live on an orange grove so there's lots of land to run and play." Bill answered. Paz and Ruth continued to look indecisive for a moment until Eloise approached them, her steps small but sure. Gently she raised one of her delicate hands and caressed the top of Paz's head. Her touch was unhurried, smooth and comforting. Paz stared at Eloise, nearly in awe of how easily she had taken to him.

"You don't have to call us 'mom' or 'dad', but we'd like it if you'd let us treat you as a son."

Everyone could see the clear sparkle of gratitude in Paz's eyes, his vulnerable expression giving Ruth pause. She clearly didn't want to leave, let alone be separated from Paz, but she recognized that lonely look in the boy's eyes and knew what she had to do. Selflessly, Ruth let go of Paz's hand and stepped towards the Cunninghams, rolling her eyes in over exaggerated annoyance when Yafit squealed gleefully and hugged Ruth around the waist.

"What're you so happy for? We're going to be living together forever now." Ruth groaned.

"But this time we'll be sisters!" Yafit exclaimed, flashing Ruth a smile of sincere delight. "I've always wanted a sister."

Ruth's mouth fell open, unsure of how to respond to such a wonderful compliment. Licking her lips, the ten year old raised her hand to pat Yafit's head, careful not to disturb the girl's blond braids. Looking up at the smiling Cunninghams, Ruth tried her best to offer a small smile.

"I'm Ruth."

"Welcome to the family, Ruth." Jack said, rubbing her shoulder and inviting her into the circle of his and Jenny's arms.

Paz smirked at the back of Ruth's head, happy to see her with a family she could claim as her own. Swallowing his own insecurities, the twelve year old addressed the family that was to be his, knowing that by accepting them, he was agreeing to give up any chance at being with his own mother and father again. He was prepared to do that, but he couldn't help feeling inadequate seeing that the Trumanns already had a son. And just as the shadow of doubt was cast over his eyes, Daniel Trumann stepped forward and presented Paz with a small carving of a horse, the mysterious object he had been fidgeting with in his pocket.

"That's Awenasa. He's my horse back home. I'll teach you to ride him if you want." Daniel offered, his invitation genuine but his delivery awkward.

"Did you make this?" Paz asked in amazement, holding the chiseled toy as if it were a magnificent treasure. Daniel blushed at the awed look Paz gave him, quickly turned away and nodded.

"Can I see it, Paz?" Yafit asked, happily admiring Daniel's gift. Paz wasn't looking at Yafit, however. He was staring at Ruth who was staring right back, an uncertainty still twinkling in her eyes, but also a resigned acceptance.

"Um…well, I'm glad we're not going to be brother and sister." Paz declared shyly, his ears turning red. "That would be weird."

"Really weird." Ruth agreed, fighting a bashful smile.

"Well, I think maybe it's time for us to go." Ed suddenly announced, cueing Noa to hand the parchment envelope to Mrs. Trumann.

"Everything's there. All the legal documents, birth certificates, adoption papers, passports." Noa said.

"Noa's the best. Not even the American government would know these little monsters aren't citizens." Ed bragged, flashing the children and their new families his most comforting and charming smile.

That dreadful somber rain cloud that had been hovering over their heads all day finally opened then, letting loose a deluge of tears, sobs and garbled well wishes. The children were as brave as they could be, hugging Ed, Al and Noa tightly, thanking them for opening their home and showing them great care and love. For a long time they had been a family to each other, but the time had finally come to part ways. Eddie's face went purple as he cried, finally understanding that his playmates and surrogate siblings were leaving forever. He had locked his arms around Yafit the tightest, refusing to let her go until Ed pried them apart, holding his son against his chest as the three year old cried into his father's neck.

"We'll take good care of them." Jack promised as his wife did her best to soothe the sniffling girls.

"I know you will." Ed answered simply. "Have a safe journey back to California."

"Thank you."

And knowing it would be too difficult to stay a moment longer, Ed waved goodbye to Paz, Ruth and Yafit, turned on his heel and walked away, his son in his arms, and Al and Noa close behind. A single journey made by the make-shift family had come to an end, but now several new and bright destinations were to be sought, albeit separately. Ed wasn't worried. He had delivered Ruth, Paz and Yafit into safe, loving families. They would safe and have many unique opportunities.

They would be fine and knowing that, Ed was sure he would be, too.

* * *

_And that's another chapter down._

_My goodness, I can't believe we've come this far. There are eight more chapters left to go, people, and my mind is absolutely boggled!_

_So, this chapter was a bit of a downer. It was full of high emotions and poignant arguments and lots of regret. Ed and Winry both have fair points, but both of them have also not entirely thought everything out. The main issue, however, is trust. It's not so much that Ed doesn't trust Winry, just that he doesn't trust the choices she'll make. Based on what's happened to her in the last few chapters, I can't say I blame him. But Winry has a point to, especially when the danger is caused because of her. She has a right to have a say in the decisions that are being made, and Ed had better come to realize that or he's going to be trouble._

_And now, a word for my anonymous reviewers:_

**roseofsharon28**: _I've hurried the best I can. Hope you liked it!_

**Twin_Alchemist**: _Well, I am just all sorts of flattered and grateful, in many good ways. I'm really pleased to know you liked Kluge's back story and understood the parallels and links between him and Amestrian Roy. And that's amazing that you were really able to get into Kluge's head and understand his sense of abandonment. Thumbs up to you and your twin! So, um, I hope you haven't gone insane, but if you have I hope this chapter has saved you from the brink. Thanks for your review. I hope I'll hear from you again soon!_

_And now, I would like to take a moment to remember the sweet, cherubic faces of Paz, Yafit and Ruth. This was their final chapter, readers, and now, they will go off into the sunset, bound for California and all the dreams that lay waiting there. Their new families will take good care of them and ensure they will be happy, everything that Ed, Noa and Al would hope for them. This chapter also marks the last time we will see Maes Hughes and Alex Louis Armstrong. I'm not saying we won't hear from them again, but physically, they have left the building. _

_I will miss them._

_And, as a treat for all of you wonderful, devoted readers who I've been very mean to with the cliffhanger from '_His Reasons'_, I will divulge a bit of the next chapter._

_Clue #1: Some works (and I'm not saying which) of Vic Mignogna and Lenny Barboza were a major inspiration. _

_Clue#2: Some much needed EddiexEd time and a bit of surprise on top of the Eiffel Tower_

_Clue #3: Ed, Winry, water, soap, and trust…I'll let your imaginations do the rest._

_As always, I'm really thankful to everyone who has been reading. Whether you've been following from the beginning, intercepted in the middle or have just jumped on, I'm very happy that you've decided to go on this trip with me. We've been having a lot of fun, seen a lot of great scenery, and even broke the speed limit a few times. _

_And I promise, the next chapter will have a little bit of all three!_

_Please, if you will, take the time to leave a review and let me know what you think. No flames, please and thank you!_

_My warmest regards,_

**Giant Nickel**


	21. It's Time to Trust Again

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist cuz if I did there's no way Bones would allow me to let Ed and Winry do what they're about to do in this chapter._

**A/N:** _Hi everybody! So here we are, the emotional crux of the story. Now, I don't want to give very much away, so I'll only leave you with this:_

_Citrus._

_Like, make your lips purse citrus. A nice combination of lemon and lime that will both quench your thirst and leave you wanting more. At least, that's what I was going for. Oh! And for anyone who is either a Vic Mignogna fan or Resembool Ranger, you probably know what the chapter title is in reference to. If not, then I'll tell you:_

_It's the title of an absolutely lovely song by composer and song writer Vic Mignogna, also known as the VA for Edward Elric, also known for making hordes of anime fans scream so loud that people have experienced short periods of deafness in the immediate vicinity (OK, that last one is a bit of an exaggeration, but only by that much). _

_Anyway, find this song! It's beautiful, and the moment I heard it I knew what I wanted the underlying theme of this chapter to be. I also recommend listening to it in the background as you read this chapter, but that's just for ambiance's sake. _

_And now, I think I've built up this chapter enough. I know you're eager to see what's been written, so by all means, get reading!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**It's Time to Trust Again**

_France_

_9. Oct. 28_

***

Once they were out of sight of the café, Noa broke down. She buried her head in her husband's neck and cried silently. Al brushed his fingers through her thick hair, whispering words of reassurance.

"I'll take her back to the townhouse." Al decided.

"I-I-I…I'm sor-sorry. I c-c-can-can't help…help it!" Noa gasped, trying to control her quiet wails and choppy breathing.

"You don't have to be sorry." Ed insisted, rubbing the woman's back gently. "Go home and rest."

"What about you and Eddie?" Al asked as he raised his arm to hail a cab.

"We'll be fine, right, buddy?" Ed cooed. Eddie was still sniffling against his father's shoulder, slowly coming around from the trauma of having to say goodbye to his friends. He didn't respond to his father but Ed wasn't too concerned. He knew Eddie would recover, especially once he was distracted by other activities.

"We'll see you at home, then." Al said, grinning compassionately as he secured a taxi and moved to open the door and help Noa inside. He waved at his nephew through the window as the cab drove off. Eddie shifted in Ed's arms, one eye cracking open to watch his uncle and aunt drive away.

Ed gave Eddie's bottom a comforting pat and began to walk down the street, humming the same lullaby Winry had sung to the child back at the apartment in Berlin. It instantly began to soothe the boy, but then, music had always had that affect on Eddie. He continued to sniffle and Ed didn't have the heart to complain when Eddie rubbed his nose on his coat sleeve when he finally raised his head to observe the area around him.

They were walking the Voie Georges Pomidou along the Seine. A chilly breeze wafted off the river, encouraging Eddie to snuggle against his father. With each step that Ed took, Eddie became more settled, more calm, until he was no longer dwelling on the farewell he had made with his adoptive siblings. Suddenly, the world around him became of great interest, from the scurrying foot traffic, to the passing, freshly waxed automobiles, to the soaring white stone buildings that captured the sun's light and bathed the street below in white rays.

"Look, Daddy! A boat." Eddie pointed out, squirming in Ed's arms as he tried to get a better look at the yacht that was lazily trekking up the sparkling Seine. Welcoming the distraction, Ed lowered Eddie to the ground and allowed the child to do as he wished. Transfixed, Eddie walked to the metal barrier and stuck his head between the bars. Ed laughed as he watched his son wave excitedly at the crew that were walking along the stern of the boat. "Hi!" Eddie cried, giggling shrilly when the men onboard waved back. "They see me."

"They sure do." Ed agreed, as he stood beside Eddie to watch the yacht float pass.

"Can we go on a boat like that?"

"And where would you go on a boat?" Ed teased, holding out a hand for Eddie to take so that they could continue their walk up the scenic street. Eddie gripped two of Ed's fingers tightly, marching widely alongside his father. Every now and then something would capture Eddie's fascination, a black, bushy tailed squirrel darting between the cars on the street, a raft of ducks wadding along the river, an ostentatiously dressed woman with pearls draped around her neck like a scarf, even the odd cloud that would remind the three year old of a favorite dessert. Free of his sorrow, Eddie released Ed's fingers and rushed ahead of him, spreading his arms out, the flaps of his unbuttoned coat trailing behind him like tweed wings.

Ed relished the sight, glad to lose himself in his son and the boy's innocence. It wasn't often that father and son got to spend time together outside of some sort of enclosure. It was rare that Ed allowed Eddie outdoors even though the boy was starved for the adventure that fresh air and sunshine promised. He was no longer a toddler that could be easily penned into a sitting room and satisfied with the breeze from an open window. Eddie needed room and freedom and the chance to be a normal three year old. Ed wanted that for Eddie, wanted him to spread his wings and discover the world, he just wanted it to be safe.

At least the immediate danger that Kluge and his followers posed was lessened.

Barely twenty-four hours after Ed and the others had discovered Le Trou, the Sûreté Nationale had raided the condemned ghetto, seizing the weapons stored within. The tip to the French police had been conferred by an anonymous informant that Ed knew was Maes Hughes in a final gesture before his departure for Britain. While the weapons had been taken, Ed had learned that the maps, files, blueprints and plans were not found, suggesting that Kluge and Eaglewing had returned to Le Trou and cleared it of the most damning evidence.

"Oops!" Eddie laughed, reaching for his dark wig when it began to slide to one side of his head. Ed rushed to his son's aid and quickly readjusted the disguise before any passing pedestrians took notice. While Ed was confident that Kluge was no longer in France and that the SS commander's plans for invasion were no longer feasible, if not completely obliterated, he refused to take a chance with Eddie. Though he was well aware that the child hated the wig, Ed would rather put up a fight with the three year old than risk his life.

He loved his son.

And maybe, it was time to focus on his family rather than his cause.

Eddie and Ed eventually made their way to Tuileries Gardens, the inviting open park brimming with bright greenery and sauntering crowds. There was a fair sized group gathered around a makeshift puppet theatre, the streamers, colors and laughter immediately drawing Eddie's attention.

"Let's go there." the three year old decided. Ed indulged his son and joined the crowd that was watching a Punch and Judy puppet show. Eddie sat with the other children that were huddled around the theatre, clapping at every ridiculous situation Punch got himself into. When a performer dressed as a harlequin asked for volunteers to take up instruments to encourage Punch as he fought the Devil, Eddie was the first to raise his hand. He was given a toy drum and he banged on it with great gusto, shouting loudly for Punch to defeat the horned puppet. When the show ended the crowd erupted with applause and the children who had joined in the performance took their bows with the rest of the players. Returning the rawhide drum to the harlequin, Eddie skipped towards his father.

"Did you have fun?" Ed asked. Eddie nodded vigorously. Smiling Ed dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a few coins. "Go put this in the clown's hat."

Eddie did as Ed said, rushing back to the harlequin actor and placing the coins in his pointed, bell-topped cap before returning to his father and taking his hand.

"Hungry?" Ed asked.

"Yep." Eddie answered.

"Alright. Come on." Ed instructed, gently leading Eddie towards a sweet cake vendor. The tantalizing scent of cake topped with warm roasted walnuts drizzled in honey was mouth watering and Eddie ate half of his treat before he and his father had found a bench to sit on. Ed chuckled at the mess Eddie made, honey and crumbs sticking to his cheeks and chin as he munched contently. They didn't speak as they ate, watching the world walk past them through the gardens that were vibrant with rich autumn colors. It was a quiet, peaceful moment between father and son and Ed found that he didn't want to lose the time he had with Eddie.

He didn't want Eddie's memories of his father to be like the ones Ed had of his own. He wanted Eddie to be happy.

"So, where do you think we should go next?" Ed asked as he wiped the honey off of Eddie's cheeks.

"I wanna hear music." Eddie decided.

"OK. I know where to go." Ed said, taking the boy's hand and leading him out of Tuileries Gardens so that they could make their way up a long avenue.

"Where we going?" Eddie asked.

"It's a secret." Ed taunted.

"No! Tell me!"

"Not when you ask like that." Ed snorted.

"Daddy! No secrets."

The words were completely naïve, not meant to upset or haunt, but hearing them shook Ed so much that his easy, confident stride faltered. Visions of Winry sitting up in her bed with that ugly bruise taunting him reminded Ed of how badly he had hurt her.

Once again, in a long list of many indiscretions, Ed had failed Winry. He had failed at protecting her, at supporting her, at understanding her…

He had failed _her_.

And for that, she had said goodbye to him.

They reached the Palais Garnier sooner than Ed had anticipated, breaking his melancholy thoughts.

"Wow…" Eddie sighed, the illustrious opera house overpowering the child's attention.

"You like that?" Ed asked.

"What is it?"

"It's an opera house. We're gonna go inside and listen to some music." Ed promised, hoisting the boy up onto his shoulders. "You gotta promise to keep quiet, Eddie. We're sneaking in."

Eddie stifled his chuckles against the back of Ed's skull, thrilled at their conspiracy. With skills honed from many years of slinking through the shadows, Ed wound his way around the back of the building and slipped through an open door that was being used by workmen who were shuffling fractured prop pieces into the backstage area. Eddie kept his lips clamped shut and, just to assure that Ed did the same, he wrapped his hands around his father's mouth, smothering his giggles when Ed playfully nipped at his fingers. Managing to get lost four times, and nearly getting caught twice, Ed finally led his son to an empty theatre box where they could secret themselves. They had just arrived as the orchestra was rehearsing the beginning of the third act of _Der Rosenkavalier_. Settling in a plush cushioned red chair, Ed let the strength of the score wash over him, mildly keeping an eye on Eddie who was peeking with entranced curiosity over the gilded banister to get a better look at the musicians in the orchestra pit.

Music had a magical affect on Eddie. His eyes would get misty and seem to go far away, as if he was remembering things he shouldn't be able to.

Manka had loved music. After they had been married, Ed would often find her pacing their little apartment in the middle of the night, rubbing her swollen belly and singing to the child who was restlessly turning in her womb. She insisted that her songs soothed the baby, and since she had died before she was even able to hold her son, the only memory Eddie was capable of having of his mother was the sound of her voice singing to him in the womb. Ed often wondered if Eddie's fascination with music was because it truly was the only link he had to his mother. Was the boy able to somehow grasp onto his mother's spirit in the lilting twine of the strings? The frantic breathing of the pipes? The forceful rattling of the drums? Or perhaps it was clear, haunting call of the soprano who was practicing her scales, her alluring voice sending one into a strange waking dream where reality and fantasy blurred.

Listening to the music and seeing his son so involved in the performance, Ed's own mind began to wander and he found himself dwelling on the inevitable.

He missed Winry.

It was odd. As a teenager, Ed had often found his indisputable ties to Winry and all that she meant to him a nuisance, like a shameful secret that had to be locked away and hidden under the bed. He hadn't wanted those memories or those feelings, believing he was better off to leave her in his past like the charred remains of his house. He still appreciated Winry, cared for her and wanted her to be happy, but at sixteen, Ed hadn't quite accepted Winry's importance in his life. It wasn't until he was trapped on the other side of the Gate and caught himself looking for her familiar face that he even began to understand how much he cared for his automail mechanic. Over the years, Ed had come to understand and accept that he was in love with Winry, that he likely had been for a large part of his youth and that he always would care for her until the day his automail rusted off of his body. He had been offered the chance to have her, to be with her like he truly desired, and his own selfish insecurities had destroyed everything.

She said he didn't trust her, and she was right.

Manka had known about Ed's rebellion against Kluge and the SS. When she had finally found him after months of searching, Ed had told her of his true motives, confessing to the dangerous life he led, but swearing to protect her and their baby. He never told Manka about his past, though, allowing her to continue believing that the life of the Fullmetal Alchemist was nothing more than a tall tale woven together by the needles of his imagination. And then there was Winry, who knew about Ed's past, had _been_ his past, and even as he claimed he wanted her to be part of his future, he had kept quiet about very important aspects of his new life.

Trust was not something Ed was able to give easily. He hadn't fully trusted Manka. He hadn't fully trusted Winry. He loved both, had lost both, and it was all his own damn fault.

'_Your priorities are really fucked up Edward Elric_,' he thought morosely, sifting his fingers through is hair as the beginnings of a headache started to take root.

"Daddy, are you sad?" Eddie asked, moving to wrap his arms around Ed's legs and resting his chin on his automail knee.

"No." Ed lied, ruffling Eddie's wig before pulling the boy onto his lap. They listened quietly throughout the rest of the rehearsal, successfully sneaking out of the box seats before they were caught.

To end their outing, Ed decided that he and Eddie would trek to the top of Eiffel Tower. The view was something Eddie had never seen before and the challenging walk up the one thousand six hundred and sixty five stairs was the sort of exercise Ed needed to clear his thoughts. He was puffed out by the time they made it to the observation deck, sliding Eddie off his back and warning the boy to be careful about getting too close to the edge.

"Pretty colors." Eddie exclaimed, pointing out over the rooftops of the city as the setting rays of the sun painted the French capitol in vibrant shades of pink, lavender and coral.

"Sure is, buddy." Ed agreed.

"Hey, Daddy." Eddie called. "Is you still sad?"

"I'm not sad." Ed lied again.

"Maybe if you asks Winnie that question you won't be sad no more." Eddie offered.

"Ask her what question?" Ed wondered, truly curious by his son's solution to the rift between himself and Winry.

"I don't know. Winnie just said you had to asks her something and then she could be my mommy." Eddie explained. "She promised she'd say 'yes'."

"Did she?" Ed sighed, now aware of exactly what Eddie was talking about. Crouching down so that he was eye-level with the boy, Ed saw the naked hope that was shinning in Eddie's eyes. "Is that what you really want? You want Winry to be your mom?"

"Yeah!" Eddie answered enthusiastically without a shred of hesitation.

"Well, you know, she can be pretty scary sometimes." Ed teased. "And she'll make you drink milk."

That little quip gave the boy pause and he appeared to be seriously considering the pros and cons of having Winry as his mother before he flashed his father a stern, stubborn expression, one that clearly stated that he would not be swayed.

"I want Winnie to be my mommy."

The boy's mind was soundly made up and in truth, so was Ed's. He wanted Winry, too, and he wasn't going to lose her because of his foolishness. Smiling in understanding, Ed hugged Eddie tightly before giving the child a chance to romp around the observation deck.

Ed leaned against the railing, his golden eyes taking in the city. He replayed the argument he and Winry had had five nights ago, her words fresh in his memory. She claimed he didn't trust her and Ed agreed with her scathing assessment. He didn't want to put that faith in her. She could hurt him with one word even worse than Manka's death had. It was unbearable to be torn away from the person you held dear. Ed had lived that tragedy the first time he was locked away from his world, barred from all that he loved, including Winry. And then Manka came into his life, lulled him into that secure feeling again only to leave him when he needed her the most. Having Winry returned to him was truly a cosmic miracle, but the fear of falling into that hellish pit of heartache kept Ed from allowing himself to be that vulnerable again. But if he wanted Winry, he was going to have to find the courage to be that open…to show her he trusted her and hope that she could trust him again.

As he came to his decision, Ed found himself filling with confidence, the rhythmic beat of Eddie clapping his hands together as he walked along the deck pounding Ed's resolve solidly into his heart. He was afraid, he was uncertain, but he was also a man in love who had realized that that love was worth any amount of hurt and pain.

_She_ was worth fighting for.

A warm, coursing energy rushed up Ed's spine and through his limbs, electrifying his brain as he came to his decision. He didn't know how, but he would find a way to prove to Winry that he was trustworthy. His whole body felt alive and vigorous, much like he used to feel when he mastered a new type of alchemy for the first time. Taking in a deep breath, the rush of the cool twilight air coating his lungs, Ed gave the rooftops of Paris one final, admiring look before moving away from the railing.

It was time to go home.

"Eddie, come on." Ed called as he started for the doorway.

"But Daddy, come see –"

"Now, Edward."

Grumbling, the child stomped after his father, clearly disgruntled at Ed's dismissal. After all, he had only wanted to show his father the crude model of an automail hand that he just had created.

A steel hand resembling the one Eddie had been playing with for several weeks, jutted from the observation deck's railing, the blue sparks of alchemical energy still dancing between the fingers.

* * *

Noa sighed as she stared at the photograph in her hands, absently stroking the faces of the three smiling children on the flat surface. The picture had been taken just days before, a project Al had undertaken knowing that Noa would need the comfort of such a precious memento once Paz, Ruth and Yafit were gone. She didn't cry as she fondly studied the picture. It felt as if all the tears inside of her had been shed, leaving her eyes red and raw, her nose dribbling and throat sore. She and Al had been in the sitting room all afternoon, reminiscing about the children and comforting one another. Winry had selected to spend her day in her bedroom, only coming down to share a cup of tea with Al and Noa before once again retreating to her sanctuary.

"Are you feeling alright, Noa?" Al asked, moving to sit beside her so that he could also admire the photograph.

"I'll be fine." Noa replied, believing her own reassurance for the first time. "Seeing their new families was very helpful. They're good people."

"They are." Al agreed. "You're very brave."

"Me?" Noa asked, smiling shyly as she turned on the sofa to address her husband. "I've been a disaster for days."

"But you still did the right thing. You let go. I know how hard that is." Al sympathized, moving to put an arm around Noa. She accepted his embrace and curled against him, finding a great solace in the simple movement of his hand rubbing up and down her arm. Relaxing against her husband, Noa was lulled into a serene peace and turned to thank Al for supporting her. She gasped when she found herself caught up in his molten buttery gaze, realizing just how close they were and how wonderful he smelled, like autumn breezes and fresh bread.

Noa found herself staring longingly at Al's mouth.

She kissed him, her lips wet and eager, sculpting to his, massaging them with a tender delicacy. Al didn't hesitate as he kissed Noa back, a palpable relief tinting his returned embrace. It felt as if heavy chains anchored by lead weights had been lifted from the shoulders of the couple and they relished in their newly discovered freedom. Their kiss was long and sweet, a perfect meeting of lips unhindered by the furious passion that had been the force behind their first kiss shared so many months ago. But the memory of that kiss hovered over the pair as they parted for breath. They easily found desire shinning in the other's eyes and could not contain their fervor any longer.

Al dug his fingers into Noa's hair, pulling her to him with no intention of allowing her escape, his lips ensuring her sound capture. Noa accepted her captivity with a melodious moan, her mouth open and inviting, stroking Al's tongue with a delighted vigor when he dared to invade her moist cavern. Her arms wrapped snuggly around Al's neck and pulled him closer, sighing happily when her breasts pressed perfectly against his chest, her nipples aching for his touch. Al's fingers trailed from her hair to grip her shoulders, digging into her skin. His loss of control making Noa's blood boil.

She had to tell him.

He had to know.

"Alphonse!" Noa gasped, moving to press her forehead against his chin so that she could collect her breath and thoughts. She was ready to tell him about the feelings floating in her heart, desperate to share with her husband all that he meant to her. With the children gone, he was her world, and just as she had confessed weeks ago, Noa wanted to begin a family of their own. And tonight, for the first night in countless months, they would be alone in the bedroom. There were still two separate beds in the room, but what was stopping them from sharing just one?

There were simply too many unsaid feelings between the husband and wife. Al had summoned a great deal of courage to confess that he cared about her and Noa would honor him by doing the same.

"Alphonse." she said, her voice even and sure. She wasn't afraid of her love. She embraced it and only hoped that Al gladly accepted the gift she was about to bestow on him. "I just want you to know that…know that I care about you, too."

Her confession left Al beaming, the smile on his face as bright as any ray of sunshine. He kissed her softly on her brow, urging her to face him so that she could see just how powerfully her words had struck him. Noa recognized the open, hopeful expression and it gave her a great amount of courage to press on.

"You wanted to ask me something in the garden that day, remember?"

Al nodded.

"What were you going to ask?"

"It…it's not important. Not right now." Al replied. "I can ask another time."

"Does it really matter that much?" Noa wondered.

Al didn't reply and moved to kiss his wife again. Though he desperately wanted to know where Noa's feelings resided, he knew Noa was still suffering from her separation from the children, and while he didn't doubt the emotion behind her kisses and caresses, Al wasn't so certain of their motivation. He could wait a little longer. And if he were perfectly honest, he was afraid of Noa's response. He needed time to refortify his courage.

They sat together for close to an hour in comfortable silence, leaning against one another on the sofa. Winry had come down to tell them she was going to take a shower and Noa was sluggishly preparing to move from her warm nest at Al's side to begin making dinner when Ed and Eddie returned.

"Uncle Al, Auntie Noa, guess what!" Eddie exclaimed, tearing off his black wig as he soared onto the sofa, landing feet first between them.

"Off the sofa with your shoes on, young man." Ed admonished as he looped his fingers under Eddie's waistband and hoisted him in the air. The three year old grunted as his trousers pulled in uncomfortable places while Noa took off his shoes and tickled his feet before Ed put him back down on the striped cushions.

"Well, tell us what you did today." Al insisted.

"Daddy took me to see some music." Eddie started, flashing his father a happy smile over his shoulder. "And there was a man who did this."

Eddie began to swing his arms back and forth in a grand embellishment of the motions the maestro had made during the rehearsal they had watched. Al and Noa laughed, fueling Eddie's excitement which seemed to be unrelenting.

Ed looked on the scene and yawned. The young father was exhausted. The muscles in his back were especially tight and he rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension.

What he needed was a shower.

After he was clean and relaxed and dressed in fresh clothes, then he would go and find Winry.

"Al? You and Noa can feed this little monster. I'm going to take a shower."

"Sure." Al answered absently, still focused on Eddie's animated tale of the adventures he'd had over the course of the afternoon. Waving his thanks, Ed made his way up the stairs, leaving aunt, uncle and nephew in the sitting room.

"Alphonse?" Noa said suddenly. "Isn't Winry taking a shower?"

Al froze, his expression a rapid flux of concentration, realization and projected horror as the implications of what could happen upstairs if Ed walked in on Winry in the shower.

"Shouldn't we warn him?" Noa probed when Al didn't speak.

"Do you want to go after him?" Al parroted back.

Noa narrowed her brown eyes at her husband and briefly considered his proposition before soundly chickening out.

"He'll hear the water running." No excused. "He'll know she's in there."

And that was the truth Noa and Al chose to believe before abandoning all thoughts of what Ed and Winry might do should they meet in the bathroom upstairs and returning their full focus on Eddie and his excited stories.

* * *

Ed had flung his shirt into a corner and was working on the buttons of his trousers when he realized that the water was running and a misty steam was slowly filling the small bathroom. He had been so involved with daydreaming about the sweet relief of the pounding water on his sore back that he had locked the door and was half naked before he realized that the shower was occupied. There was only one person in the townhouse that could be in the shower, and through the mosaic checkered shower curtain, Ed could make out her svelte silhouette.

If he was a gentleman, he would redress and leave, hopefully without Winry noticing, but Ed was more rake than nobleman, and so he continued to unbutton his trousers. He watched Winry's shadow intently, encouraged in his actions when he saw one of her hands stretch over the brass curtain rod, her fingers coated with suds, as if beckoning him to quickly divest himself of his underwear and socks and join her.

Ed realized his actions might seem hasty, even egotistical and obnoxious, but it wasn't about lust. It was about trust.

He had to prove to Winry that he trusted her, that he wanted her to trust him, and at the moment, the golden eyed man couldn't think of a more raw expression of his resolve and his feelings than to be naked.

He would be the most vulnerable he had ever been with a woman, allowing her to see all of him, his body, mind and emotions.

No barriers, not even clothing.

Finally removing the binding from his ponytail, exposed of every barrier he had worked his whole life to build, Ed stood outside of the shower for a moment, the steam moistening his skin. Swallowing what remained of his insecurities, beating down the deep rooted fear he had of the possibility of being abandoned by one he loved, Ed pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower.

Winry's back was facing him, her head directly under the strong streams of hot water. She couldn't hear him behind her and Ed took the opportunity to take in her beautiful physique. With her blond hair slicked back it seemed almost transparent, molding to her spine and shoulders, the tips barely brushing her glistening buttocks. Ed stared at Winry's rear end, his flesh hand recalling how plump and soft it felt, leading the young man's memory to think of other parts of Winry that felt divine against his flesh.

Closing his eyes, Ed forced his fantasies to rest, unwilling to allow himself to become aroused. He had to prove himself to Winry and if she saw him naked behind her with a swollen cock any chances he had to prove his sincerity would evaporate with the steam. He remained behind her, waiting until Winry realized that she wasn't alone.

He didn't have to wait very long.

Winry stiffened, her intuition informing her of the presence at her back. She turned around, her blue eyes as hot as lightning. Her eyes widened and jaw dropped when she realized that it was Ed who was invading her space, a shocked fury replacing her momentary fear. Her arms moved to conceal her body from his sight, one crossing over her breasts and the other falling low to shield the crisp blond curls between her thighs.

Equally amused and insulted by Winry's modesty, Ed maintained eye contact with the wet woman before him, keeping his distance as she took in his stark state.

Unlike Winry, Ed didn't cover himself, allowing her to peruse his flesh for as long as she wished. She kept her interest on his face for several minutes before slowly taking advantage of the opportunity Ed was providing, roving over his chest, arms and torso before dropping lower. He couldn't help his blush when Winry's large blue eyes observed his member. He wasn't hard, completely unthreatening, though he was forced to mentally recite the periodic table when Winry licked her lips as she appraised his cock.

She was beautiful, and if he could prove himself, she would be his.

Stepping towards her, Ed was glad that Winry didn't shy away from him, but the closer he got, the clearer the erupting anger in her eyes appeared. When he was standing just inches before her, Winry moved, slapping Ed hard across the left side of his face.

His neck twisted and his cheek stung. He kept his face turned away, eyes averted from her form. The only sounds in the room were the gush of the water and the patter of those streams hitting flesh and metal, all muffled by the hard pounding of Ed and Winry's hearts.

Winry lowered her hand, breathing harshly, waiting for Ed to face her. He did slowly, flipping his sodden hair out of his eyes so that her vision of him was unobscured. He almost reached out to wipe at the few tears he spotted slipping from Winry's eyes, but he kept himself from touching her, instead using his eyes to communicate his intentions.

Winry held her breath as she was struck by the deep emotion reflected in Ed's eyes.

He was sorry.

She hadn't seen Ed for five days, knowing he was avoiding her and eventually giving in to her decision to leave him. Now he was standing before, naked and wet, not touching her, not yelling, just looking at her, begging her to see his apology reflected in his eyes.

She knew what Ed was trying to do.

He was breaking down the wall that had always kept them separated. For the first time in years, since before Trisha Elric passed away, Winry believed that Ed was really looking at her, stripped of all his attitude and confidence, offering up the most delicate and precious thing he had.

His heart.

Following Ed's example, Winry didn't use words. She projected her feelings in her eyes, not needing to express to him how hurt and betrayed she had felt. He knew that. What she needed Ed to know was that she still loved him, had been missing him, and that she was terrified of letting him hurt her again.

He saw, and acted to assuage her fears.

When Ed leaned in to kiss her, Winry met him halfway. The kiss was sweet and innocent, like all first kisses should be. It was an honest exchange between lovers, and hope welled within Winry's heart.

As Ed backed away, he took hold of the soap and washcloth sitting on the corner shelf. He lathered up the cloth and put the soap away before indicating with a gentle smile that he wanted to wash her. Blushing from the roots of her hair to the tip of her nose, Winry nodded her consent awkwardly, presenting Ed with her back. He ran the cloth along her skin in gentle circles, his automail hand running up and down her side, the metal slick and warm from the water.

Ed worked slowly, massaging as well as cleansing. He charted every curve and dip on Winry's body, learning and rediscovering her skin. As he was wiping her left hand Ed spotted a thin, nearly invisible scar that cut across her palm, the result of a wayward screwdriver from the first automail arm she had made for him.

A surging warmth spread through Ed.

The automail Winry constructed was her way of expressing her affection for him. Ed knew that, appreciated Winry's efforts, and swore that he would never make her regret any scar she ever acquired because of him.

He continued to bathe her, his fingers not shy as he rubbed her breasts, unable to restrain himself from teasing her pink nipples. Winry squeaked, both surprised and mildly annoyed at Ed's playfulness, slapping his tweaking fingers away and snorting when he flashed her a cheeky grin. He continued down her belly and across her hips, bravely daring to scrub the curls that protected her most sensitive spot from his fingers.

Winry closed her eyes when his fingers touched her _there_, her breath catching in her throat. There was a knot of anticipation and excitement, and suddenly it was gone, along with Ed's fingers. Winry opened her eyes, disappointed at Ed's retreat, and then nearly gasped at what she saw.

Ed was on his knees before her, the sudsy washcloth still in hand, his automail fingers circled delicately around one ankle and coaxing her foot into the air. Winry watched with rapt fascination as Ed washed her feet. In a strange way, it felt more intimate than making love.

He moved from her feet to wash her legs delicately, circling her knees and wandering high up on her inner thighs. He massaged her buttocks, unashamed when his automail hand lingered longer than necessary on the plump flesh. He then rose to his feet and finished by scrubbing her neck, his golden eyes following the white suds as they trailed down her torso and tickled her bellybutton.

When he was done, Ed placed the washcloth in Winry's hands, still not speaking, telling her with his eyes and his smile and his body that she could return the favor if she liked.

Winry accepted the invitation, lathering the washcloth and gliding it along Ed's chiseled body. She scrubbed him thoroughly, taking great care with his back. The scars from his time in Kluge's prison were pronounced against his bronze skin and Winry leaned against Ed's back, catching her breath when her nipples touched him. She pressed her lips to the scar tissue, kissing each of the injuries he had suffered. Ed gulped, his breath shallow and muscles tense. Since she was facing his back Winry could not see the physical effect she was having on Ed's body, though she was able to suspect.

Smiling proudly, Winry lathered her fingers with the soap before moving to sift them through Ed's golden blond hair. Playing with Ed's hair had always been a secret favorite pastime of Winry's. She sighed contentedly, lulled into a serene calm as she washed Ed's hair, scraping her nails against his scalp and giggling every time he groaned in satisfaction.

The water washed away the soap, leaving only the fresh scent of Ed behind. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Winry coaxed Ed to turn and face her so that she could continue bathing him. He fought her momentarily, but eventually conceded, blushing madly when it was revealed that he had become hard during Winry's ministrations.

Winry licked her lips again, fascinated by Ed's cock and flattered that she had worked him up into such a state. Curious, Winry looked Ed in the eye, holding his attention. Gulping, she glanced back down at Ed's erection, her silent query clear.

Ed's mouth went dry and most of his rationale seeped out of his ears to slip down the drain as he nodded his consent. Nodding back, Winry took a deep breath before stroking Ed's chest, dragging her nails over his dark nipples which puckered under her touch. His stomach muscles jumped as she caressed her way down to his bellybutton. She played with the alluring trail of dark golden hairs that led like a treasure map down to the prize straining between his legs, her fingers hovering over his cock in nervous anticipation.

Winry had never taken a great deal of time to observe and admire the male anatomy. Her career as an automail mechanic and doctor had left Winry in the position of regarding the human body in a strictly professional manner and she had been far too timid during her time with Preston to feel truly comfortable with exploring his body.

Ed was different.

There wasn't any man in the world Winry could imagine herself being more comfortable with, and besides, she trusted Ed.

And when she gripped him in her hand, feeling him tremble as she stroked the most vulnerable part of his body, she knew he trusted her, too.

The soap had made her hands slippery, allowing her to run her fist along his cock comfortably. He was warm, almost hot to the touch, and he pulsed strongly under her palm, his hardened length jumping slightly as she pumped him with vigorous inexperience.

Ed fell back against the tiled wall, welcoming the mild pain that rattled though his skull from the impact as he did his best to control his body. Winry's fingers felt wonderful, the soap and the smell and the water and her grip driving him into an impassioned frenzy. He wanted to pin Winry to the wall and take her hard and fast, relieving both of them of the tension that was creating far more steam than the hot water pummeling their slick forms.

But he wouldn't touch her, refusing himself that satisfaction as he looked down to watch Winry's hand caress him.

She was the one in control.

He was giving her the power to tease or promise, to fulfill or retreat. Clenching his fists, Ed gasped when Winry pulled on him a bit too harshly, his body naturally flinching at the sensitive pinch. Realizing she had hurt him, Winry decided that she needed Ed's help in bringing him to his release. Taking his flesh hand in hers, Winry gently led his fingers to encase hers on his cock, kissing him on the neck when he took her cue and began to move her hand along his erection. He showed her how tightly to hold him, where to squeeze along the throbbing head and how to let her knuckles tease the underside of his scrotum before beginning the erotic movement all over again. As always, Winry was a fast learner and Ed soon found his flesh hand gripping his thigh as Winry worked his body like one of her automail masterpieces.

He didn't hide from her when he came close to the edge, feeling her eyes on him as he bucked into her hand, his teeth grit and lips snarling. He let her see the power she wielded over him, wanted her to view every vulnerable emotion that flashed across his face before his world exploded, and all because of her soft, eager little hand.

Winry couldn't contain her smile as Ed came, entranced by the way his neck muscles tensed and his jaw locked as his mouth opened in a keening whine.

His seed was washed away with the shower water that had become tepid and soothing. Winry held onto Ed as he went soft in her grasp, watching as he trembled from the force of his release. He still hadn't reached out for her, his body sagging against the tiled wall, and so Winry went to him. Laying her head in the nook of his neck and shoulder, Winry waited for Ed to come down from his orgasm, loving the sound of his heart beating and the feel of his breath catching in her bangs. He weakly raised his arms to encircle her body, holding her to him as he relished in the afterglow, and Winry took advantage of his euphoric state and planted soft kisses upon his jaw before reaching for his mouth.

Their kisses were slow and long, a languid way to end a wonderful moment, but also a flammable kindling that could easily start another fire if left to build. Ed added the spark, pressing his tongue into Winry's mouth, stroking her as she had stroked him. He forced her against his body, moaning into her mouth when her pebbled nipples brushed across his chest, the nest of coarse curls at her apex rubbing along his thigh and inviting him to explore what they concealed. He used both of his hands to cup her breasts, mindful of his automail fingers and sure that he didn't bruise the supple flesh. She was warm and heavy in his palm and Ed loved how soft her skin was along his fingertips. He wanted Winry to feel as good as she had made him and when he looked into her darkening blue eyes he saw that she wanted that same explosive release.

Kissing her hard and quick, Ed moved like a lion, dominating the moment and flipping positions with Winry so that she was pressed against the tile wall. He had moved her so that he was facing her back, her spine curved deliciously as her rear end was presented to him like a voluptuous feast. For a moment, Ed entertained the idea of nipping Winry's bottom and leaving a bright red hickey on the pale skin, marking her as his, but the action would only serve his ego and really do nothing for Winry's pleasure.

She was trusting him to bring her back to that stormy precipice he had shown her on the train over a week ago, and Ed refused to leave her disappointed.

He molded his front to her back, giving Winry a moment to feel his weight behind her, his flaccid member tucked snuggled against her cheeks while his nose burrowed in her hair and his teeth nibbled on her ear. He could feel her heartbeat shake through him, her muscles tense as she waited for what he intended to do. Ed smiled, kissing Winry's shoulder as his hands once again found her breasts, folding over her nipples and massaging the soft flesh. He waited until Winry was panting before taking his next daring step.

As his automail hand continued to manipulate Winry's right breast, Ed's flesh hand trekked downwards, brushing through her nether curls before curving inwards and discovering the moist cavern hidden there. Winry gasped, her body jolting forward as she tensed up on her tiptoes, her hands splaying out on the tiled wall as her fingers sought support to grasp.

But there was nothing. Only Ed.

Ed worked his fingers slowly against the soft, wet flesh, tracing Winry's shape as gently as he would stroke the fragile petals of a new spring flower. She was molten hot, and Ed rested his brow on Winry's neck when he found the spot that would make her scream if he pushed two fingers against it and massaged lightly. Every sound that Winry made was a melody to Ed, making him want to beat his chest in male satisfaction that he was making Winry whimper so prettily.

With each stroke of his fingers Winry's bottom would arch and rub against his cock, and soon, Ed was hard again, straining for his simultaneous release with the woman in his arms. Although the thought was all too tempting, he wouldn't enter her, knowing that their actions at the moment were rooted in more than lust and release.

Winry was trusting Ed with her body.

He wouldn't betray her trust in him again.

He could feel she was coming closer to her climax and he wanted to be with her when she fell. Kissing her ear tenderly as an assurance that she didn't have to worry, Ed began to rub himself along her buttocks, the water and remaining soap allowing his cock to easily glide against her skin, creating just enough friction drive him out of his mind. Winry was starting to shake, her body wound so tight that she might expire if she didn't reach her end. And then, Ed slipped one wet finger inside her and the light exploded from behind her eyes.

She yelled his name for all of Paris to hear, her body clamping down on that clever, wriggling digit. The sensation of her orgasm and the sound of his name on her lips as she came was Ed's undoing. He raised his automail hand to link with Winry's against the tile wall, bucking along her rear end only a few times before he came as well, her name ripping from his throat like a long practiced prayer.

* * *

_France _

_10. Oct. 28_

***

Ed came awake slowly, aware of his body from the toes up. He realized immediately that he was naked, his skin warm under the heavy comforter. His head was cushioned on a lush pillow, his hair damp and clinging to his forehead. There was also the telling tingle of someone close by, their eyes watching him as he slept. Unthreatened, Ed took his time before he opened his eyes, his automail hand reaching out to grope at the body he expected to find beside his own. His seeking fingers found the soft rounded skin of a thigh and he smiled foolishly when he turned to look at the woman who belonged to that delectable limb.

Winry was sitting up in bed, a blanket wrapped securely around her body.

After their blinding pleasure in the shower, Ed had mustered the strength to wrap Winry in a towel and carry her back to her bedroom where they both fell onto the mattress, exhausted and sated. No one had come to disturb the pair, not even for dinner, and it appeared that it was now very late and likely the middle of the night.

The moonlight was enough to outline Winry's slim, luminescent frame, her hair a silver tangle flowing down her back and ribbons of cigar smoke wafting around her head. She had half of a cheroot tucked between her lips and seemed to be lazily lost in thought. Shifting, Ed trailed his automail fingers along the side of her body until he reached her back. He rubbed her lax muscles and waited until she offered him a gentle smile.

"Stressed?" he joked tiredly.

"Nope." Winry answered honestly. "The very opposite, actually."

Taking another drag off of her cigar, Winry offered what was left of the cheroot to Ed, placing the stub between his lips and holding it as he took a few puffs. When he was done, she put the stogie out in an ashtray on the bedside table before resettling against the pillows and shifting closer to Ed.

They were both wide awake, but for the first time in five days they weren't tense disasters when in the other's presence. Winry was very relaxed, her mind clear of the chaotic emotions that had been driving her for the last week. Ed felt sated and comfortable, his choice to be completely open with Winry giving him the releasing freedom to share anything with her.

"You hurt me. When you broke your promise…and that really hurt me." she finally said, shattering the silence in the dark room.

"I know. I'm sorry. I did things, I said things…I'm sorry."

"Did you mean it?" Winry asked turning to look at Ed. "When you said it would be better if you died, did you mean it?"

"I did. To be honest, I'd give my life to save yours or Eddie's, or Al's, or Noa's. I know that upsets you, but that's just how I am. I can't help that." Ed admitted quietly, prepared to accept Winry's frustrated glower, her groan of annoyance or drawn-out, frustrated lecture.

He was relieved and surprised when she did nothing but take his automail hand in hers, flesh curling around metal, fusing together like soul mates.

"That's the most honest thing you've said to me since we were kids." she said with a smile.

"I thought about what you told me, about how I don't trust you. You were right. I mean, when it comes to your automail, I know I couldn't be in better hands, but when it comes to…" Ed struggled for a moment, trying to find the words. Once again, they escaped him, and so he used his actions, taking their joined hands and placing them over his strong, beating heart. "When it comes to _this_, I wasn't ready to trust you at all. You could really hurt me, Winry, and that's scary."

"You? Scared?" Winry asked, her tone light and her smile beautifully sympathetic. Ed brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it before placing it back on his chest. "It scares me, too." she confessed. "But I was ready to try."

"I _am_ ready to try." Ed insisted gently. "I'm not running away anymore, Win. I don't know what to do to prove that to you."

"Just talk to me." Winry asked, moving so that she was lying alongside Ed. Reclined on her side, she implored him with her big blue eyes to speak.

"I'm not good with words and I probably never will be." Ed began. "I like to do things my way and I hate negotiating. I don't take criticism well, Al will tell you I'm usually grumpy, and I have trouble staying in one place for very long. I probably need a good kick in the ass, or a beating with a wrench."

"I think I can handle that." Winry teased.

"I'll never want it any other way." Ed replied seriously. "I've done things I'd rather you not know about. I've killed people, in our world and in this one. When I was first stuck on this side of the Gate I was scared and really lonely…I lost my virginity to a woman whose name I can't remember. She sort of reminded me of you, blond and pretty with a bit of a temper. She was willing, I was drunk, and it seemed like good way to stop feeling so terrible. I missed you every time I looked at my arm and leg and when you suddenly showed up…well, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I'm still not too sure. I just know that when you said goodbye to me…that lonely feeling came back. I…I can't _not_ have you in my life, Winry. I need you, and its got nothing to do with the automail. It's you."

Winry smiled, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. Instead, she cuddled close to Ed and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Thank you." she whispered, her mouth brushing over his with each word she spoke. "You have no idea how much you mean to me. I have no words. It scares me that one person has so much influence on me. It's like I don't have any control when it comes to you and I know I'd probably be better off if I could learn to hate you...and I can't hate you."

She caressed his face then, her fingers trailing along his brow and cheek, finally coming to rest on his lips. Ed kissed her fingertips, silently urging her to continue.

"These last five days have been worse than the last five years. You hurt me, and we have so many problems to work out," she sighed heavily, "but I need to be with you, too. I know that I'd rather be angry and hurt with you than be angry and hurt without you."

"I'll take that." Ed said quietly, moving to kiss Winry's brow. "The night that you found me in the bunker, you said something about thinking it would be easier. What did you mean?"

"Loving you." she answered immediately, a soft lilt of pain in her voice. "But loving you has never been the hard part. Being with you is the real challenge."

She chuckled then and Ed joined her, appreciating the humor of their strange, hopeful and hopeless situation. Was it always so complex when you were in love, or were Ed and Winry just the exception? In truth, the only time that the course of their feelings became stormy was when they were not standing together on even ground. Lying together in bed, side by side, stripped of all barriers, clothing, anger and shame, and exposing the deepest secrets of their hearts, Edward and Winry couldn't have been more equivalent.

"I love you." Ed declared, his voice low and strong. It was the first time he had ever admitted the words aloud and he said them with great strength. Winry didn't doubt Ed's sentiment and offered him her prettiest smile before tucking her head under his chin.

Ed wrapped his arm around her shoulders and basked in the sweet sensation of her body close to his. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I'm sorry I hurt _you_." Winry whispered back.

They fell quiet for a long time, not asleep, just resting and letting the warmth of their reconciliation wrap around them.

"We should get married." Ed suddenly announced, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. Winry didn't stiffen in his embrace nor did she shove him out of the bed. Instead, she chuckled lightly.

"We are the last two people in this world and our own who should get married." she quipped.

"Maybe, but we've already figured we're pretty useless without each other, so let's get married."

"Are you seriously proposing to me?" Winry wondered a bit sharply as she turned to stare at the dimple in Ed's chin. He moved to look down at her and Winry was honestly taken aback by the sincerity that glowed like an ember in the heart of Ed's golden eyes.

"Win…that's the question, isn't it? Eddie told me that if I asked you a question you'd say 'yes'."

"Well yeah, but you're supposed to ask me right." Winry argued.

"And what's right?"

"After a date, on your knees, with a ring! Not naked in bed right after we had a big fight." Winry said.

"You mean not naked in bed after you jerked me off and I gave you the best orgasm of your life." Ed teased, nipping at Winry's ear before pulling her to straddle him. The bunched up blankets kept the flesh of their lower bodies from touching, but there was a teasing heat that made Winry shiver as her thighs encased Ed's hips. The sheet she had been using to conceal her breasts fell, leaving her exposed to Ed's appreciative gaze. Her nipples hardened instantly when he took his time to rove over her curves before his golden eyes met hers. He lifted his head to kiss her on the mouth, long and lazily, tugging on her bottom lip before he pecked at her chin and jaw, finally settling on her neck. He used his teeth to scrape against the sensitive skin, unrelenting in his assault until Winry was limp in his arms. She fell against his chest, the feeling of her breasts rubbing along him making him moan and almost forget why he was trying to seduce her in the first place. "Say you'll marry me." he demanded huskily.

"Not fair." Winry wined.

"You told Eddie you'd say 'yes'. So say it."

"Ed…" Winry moaned when he began to suckle on her earlobe, his teeth barely nicking the skin as his hands rubbed along her back, moving lower to squeeze her bottom.

"Say it." he urged again.

His breath tickled her ear and Winry found it was impossible to think of an argument when his fingers were kneading her bottom so deliciously, purposely grinding her against the growing bulge between his legs.

"I swear, I won't make love to you unless we're married, so you'd better say it." Ed growled, leaving her ear to mark a trail along the side of her neck, her shoulder, until he was facing what was left of the bruise that was a hard reminder of just how close he had come to losing her. As gently as if he was handling an infant, Ed nuzzled the yellow spot with his nose, allowing his lips to brush over it in a slow series of butterfly kisses.

"Tell me you love me." Winry gasped.

"I love you. Tell me you'll marry me." Ed answered without hesitation. Lifting his head from her bruise, Ed ceased his seduction and pulled back so that he could see Winry's face. She was flushed, her breathing rapid, mouth open, and her eyes sparkling like dark forest lakes. There was no argument in her eyes, no uncertainty or distrust or fear.

Just adoration.

"I'll marry you, Ed."

And they kissed, sealing the proposal and their future.

* * *

_I hear wedding bells!_

_No seriously, I hear wedding bells. Like in the next chapter. That's right readers, it's a shotgun wedding for Ed and Winry. So, after all of the turmoil and drama and angst I put you through in the last several chapters, we're finally getting a bit of closure with Ed and Winry's relationship. Now, I know it might seem like our crazy lovebirds are rushing into things but, as Ed said, Winry was always going to say 'yes' so why wait? And yes, they have issues (major issues) but once again, they're in it for the long run, so they can work out the kinks on the way. _

_Eddie's going to be so happy!_

_So, do the clues make sense now? Like I said, Vic Mignogna's song inspired the title and theme of this chapter and if you go to_ .es _you'll see the fanart that also influenced me while I wrote. _

_And now, for something not very different, a word to my anonymous reviewers:_

**roseofsharon28**: _I'm so happy you liked the children. I gotta confess, it was hard to let them go, but I know that they need to fly free. And, as always, this has been your update. I hope you enjoyed it!_

**Shingmei**: _Guess I had you fooled a bit. I mean, at the time Winry made the announcement, she was in a pretty terrible state and really did mean it, but given the chance to calm down and properly reflect, she's obviously changed her mind. Hope you've liked this last chapter and I look forward to hearing from you again!_

**Twin_Alchemist**_: I'm so glad you liked it. I hope you also enjoyed the EdxEddie scenes at the beginning of this chapter. It was a lot of fun to write their day out. I hope you haven't gone insane! Thanks!_

_And finally, something that I am particularly tickled about. _Don't Forget_ has reached over 500 reviews. And, it's earned almost 30,000 hits. Can you believe it? I'm not sure I believe it! Thank you all so much! To every reader who has left a review, discussed the fic, accessed it on purpose or by accident or who just wanted to see what all the fuss was about…thank you. I am very humbled and honored and just so happy. You guys and gals have done some amazing things for _Don't Forget_. Everyone gets a bear hug!_

_And now, I say we go for 600! Please, if you've liked this chapter, let me know. And if you've only just joined _Don't Forget_, welcome aboard and let me know your thoughts so far. _

_As usual, no flames, please and thank you!_

_My greatest, deepest, most sincere thanks and appreciation._

**Giant Nickel**


	22. The Ties that Bind

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, but I wish I owned Izumi. She kicks ass!_

**A/N:**_ Hello again! So, it seems that the last chapter was a huge success. I'm really pleased with the response it received and I want all of you to know that I appreciate all of your comments, thoughts, critiques and well wishes. While I knew everyone was really looking forward to some solid Ed and Eddie time as well as that hot moment between our favorite Fullmetal couple, I was honestly shocked at how many readers and reviewers were jumping for joy over the Al and Noa situation. I had no idea that there was such a huge interest in this couple, and now that I do, I feel kinda bad about what's going to happen in this next chapter. Before you panic, no one is going to die, but now that Ed and Winry are on the right track after such a bumpy ride, you didn't really think I'd make everything sunshine and daisies for Al and Noa, did you? _

_Enjoy! _

* * *

**The Ties that Bind**

_France_

_18. Oct. 28_

***

"I don't like this," Eddie grumbled as he shifted from one foot to the other, upsetting the knot Al had been working on.

"Just hold still, please, Eddie." Al asked in a strained tone as he tried once again to adjust the child's bowtie.

"It's hurting!" Eddie whined. "I can't breathe."

"If you can talk then you can breathe," Al countered playfully, pulling the stiff tie through the loop and finally managing to secure it. "There. Now I just have to fix your collar."

"Uncle Al, this is no fun," Eddie insisted as he stomped his foot and made a glower so much like Ed's own that Al wished he could take a picture. Rolling his eyes and ignoring the child's protests like he always ignored his older brother's, Al continued to fuss with the boy's clothing, adjusting the collar, straightening the suspenders, pulling up the trousers and tying his shoelaces. They were in the sitting room, Eddie standing on the coffee table while Al gave the three year old's clothing a good once over before he was satisfied. "Whys we gotta get all dressed up? Daddy and Winnie are only gettin' married," Eddie rationalized.

"Well, weddings are the best time to dress up," Al answered. "Your daddy and Winry are getting all dressed up. You want to look nice for them, don't you?"

The answer Al received was a sound '_harrumph'_ followed by Eddie sticking his tongue out at the red bowtie sitting like a distasteful choker around his neck. Knowing the argument was a lost cause, Al sighed and ruffled Eddie's hair.

"At least you don't have to wear the wig," Al said in an attempt to cheer the boy up.

"Still gotta wear a hat," Eddie pouted, jumping off the coffee table and stomping around the room in protest before throwing himself onto the sofa like a defeated warrior. Al wasn't sure if he wanted to groan or chuckle. Eddie had undoubtedly inherited his father's attitude and penchant for drama. Al also wondered if some of Manka's artistic temperament hadn't been passed down to her only child.

"Cheer up, Eddie," Al consoled. "You're getting a mommy, just like you wanted. And who knows, maybe you'll be a big brother by next summer."

"Nope. It's gonna just be me 'an Daddy 'an Winnie," Eddie declared stubbornly, crossing his arms as if to declare the subject was not up for discussion.

Checking his watch, Al noted that it was just after nine-thirty. They would be leaving for the courthouse soon. Ed and Winry were scheduled to meet with Judge Fálmán at the Palais de Justice at eleven o'clock for their marriage vows. The couple had gone for their license four days ago, and now, it was merely a matter of a small civil ceremony presided over by a judge and witnesses along with the exchange of vows and rings. Afterwards, the family would enjoy a simple wedding brunch before retuning to the townhouse and planning their trip back to Germany.

Al smiled to himself.

As a witness to Ed and Winry's burgeoning love for the last twenty years, Al felt that the upcoming wedding was both an ending and new beginning for his brother and best friend. When they had announced at breakfast eight days ago that they were engaged Al had laughed, exclaiming that it was about time the pair got their priorities in order. He even jokingly conceded defeat in his and Ed's long forgotten battle over who would win Winry's hand, clapping Ed on the back as he blushed and sputtered a useless denial about wanting to marry Winry when he was six.

Al was happy for his brother, though he couldn't deny to feeling a tad despondent over the upcoming nuptials.

He wondered if Ed had felt the same when Al had married Noa.

His lips pursed, as if he was tasting something vile and sour, when the thought of his wife entered his mind. Al didn't want to think about Noa and had been straining himself to push her out of his mind for the last four days, because every time he thought of her, that afternoon returned to the forefront of his memory, mocking him like an oasis mirage in a scorching desert…

* * *

_It was overcast, the sun fighting desperately to peek through the thin blanket of cotton clouds that hung high over Paris. Al twisted his head to the side, thoroughly examining the sugary sentiment embroidered on a lacy pillow in the window display that overflowed with similar frippery. The gooey mushiness of the trinkets was revolting even for Al's tastes and he quickly moved to the next window display in his search for a wedding present. _

_He craned his neck to look at a shop across the street, spotting his brother's golden blond hair through the window. Ed and Winry were buying their wedding apparel. Eddie was with them, no doubt groaning the entire time about how bored he was. Unfortunately, the couple didn't have many francs to spend on top hats and tails, so they were contently perusing a store that sold fair priced, casually elegant, clothing. Looking down at his own wedding band, Al couldn't help but feel a tinge of remorse. Ed and Winry didn't even have enough money to afford their own wedding rings, and while both insisted that they didn't need matching jewelry to solidify their vows, Al still felt that rings would complete the ceremony. However, he couldn't afford rings for the pair either, and so he was resigned to seek a gift that would be inexpensive, practical, and beneficial them both._

_Perhaps a new wrench?_

_"What about luggage?" Noa offered, giving the hollow of Al's elbow a squeeze. Looking down to regard his wife, Al puffed out his cheeks as he considered her suggestion. "It's just, we lost all of our luggage back in Freiburg, so a nice traveling trunk might do the trick. We could get one second hand and perhaps get it monogrammed?"_

_"That's a good idea," Al agreed. _

_"Wonderful!" Noa cheered, grinning magnificently. "I think there's a shop just around the corner."_

_She began to lead Al down the street, a peacefulness taking hold of her being and making her shine. Al got lost in studying the soft contours of Noa's cheeks, his attention quickly drawing towards the luminescence of her brown eyes. They reminded Al of a kitten's, large and sweet and innocently captivating. It had been wonderful being with Noa these last few days, although their time was greatly taken up by planning Ed and Winry's wedding as well as keeping Eddie occupied now that his surrogate siblings were gone. Still, the couple had found time to sneak in a few moments of delicious privacy each day and ever since their kiss on the sofa that sad, wonderful afternoon, Al and Noa had shared many more embraces._

_They still didn't share a bed, though, as Eddie had been banished to sleep with his uncle since Ed had decided to spend his nights cuddled beside Winry. Al wasn't too terribly put out, though he was nervously looking forward to spending nights alone with Noa once Ed and Winry were settled and Eddie was made to stay in his own room. _

_"Alphonse," Noa said, breaking the seventeen year old out of his flustered thoughts. "These last days have been good, don't you think?"_

_"Yes," Al agreed, smiling sincerely._

_"Me too," Noa admitted, lowering her gaze shyly before tucking a few wayward hairs behind her ears. "Everything has gone so well. Ruth, Yafit and Paz are with their new families, Edward, Winry and Eddie will be a family of their own soon, and you and I…well…"_

_"What about you and me?" Al echoed, his tone a mixture of teasing and curiosity._

_"What did you want to ask me that day in the garden?" Noa asked, an edge of desperation in her voice. Al almost chuckled, having forgotten about his anxieties over his wife's feelings for his brother. He had been so happily enclosed in a bubble of joy that any worries he had over where Noa's heart lay had all but left his mind. He was actually surprised that Noa even remembered the incident, but the mystery behind his question was obviously bothering her and so Al decided that there was no harm in finally asking Noa how she felt about Ed. _

_Al was fairly confident what her answer would be. _

_"I was going to ask…well," Al trailed off, rubbing the back of his head as he giggled nervously. "I was going to ask if you love Ed."_

_"What?" Noa wondered, taken aback by Al's query. Gathering control of his uncalled for nerves, Al stopped walking and took Noa's hands in his own, gazing deeply into her eyes. _

_"Do you love my brother?"_

_"Of course I do!" Noa answered immediately, her mouth curving into a radiant smile, all the enthusiasm of a woman in love coloring her like a golden scarf. _

_And with those words, the bubble burst._

_Al felt his heart drop out of his body, every internal organ vanishing, bones, muscle and sinew disappearing as he was deconstructed, broken down over and over until there was nothing left but a hollow suit of skin that used to be the body of a seventeen year old man. Al had vague memories of being a soul in an iron body that could never grow or age. He recalled that there was always a heavy emptiness that burdened the gentle soul trapped within, much like one felt after a good long cry, drained yet full at the same time. The feeling was something Al hadn't believed was possible to replicate once his soul and flesh body had been fused, but as Noa's declaration echoed around his mind, Al was transported back to those years in the armor, his soul remembering just how lonely it had felt to be enclosed in a body that was slowly suffocating his very being. _

_He didn't say a word. He couldn't hear or comprehend, he couldn't even see Noa as she stood before him, her bright, hopeful smile fading under the shadow of his blank stare. Not bothering to offer an explanation, Al turned away from Noa, unable to face her for a moment longer, panicking as he wondered how he would be able to live with his wife now knowing where her heart resided. _

_Noa loved Ed. _

_His brother, not him. _

_It was just as Al had always secretly feared and although he tried to placate his despair by recalling the many sweet kisses he and his wife had shared, the memories only added insult to injury. Noa had said she cared, that she wanted to have his children, but it seemed her desire was purely carnal and since she couldn't have Ed, she would take the next best thing. _

_Al found himself stopped outside of the shop Ed, Winry and Eddie were in. It appeared that Ed had finally selected a jacket for his wedding and was leading his family towards the till. Watching them, Al felt his gut clench painfully, a terrible wave of nausea rolling over him. He had never believed there could be a force in the world that would make him envy his brother, yet as he stood outside of the shop, seeing Eddie pull on Winry's skirt as he complained for attention, Winry patiently speaking to the child before patting his head while Ed glanced at the two out of the corner of his eye, an expression of warm love softening his eyes and jaw, jealousy seeped into Al's heart._

_But Alphonse Elric was not a man capable of harboring hard vices. His envy lingered for only a few, crawling moments before retreating, leaving him scarred and broken. The deep, indestructible devotion and love he had for his brother were the only threads keeping him together, just like Ed's blood had once been the only anchor bonding his brother's soul to the living world. _

_Al could never hate Edward. He could never be jealous of him or begrudge his happiness. And he knew that Noa would never interfere with Ed and Winry's nuptials even if she was in love with the groom. It would seem that the pair of them were trapped, and while Al had once believed that he could overcome his wife's feelings for his brother, that he could make her fall in love with him, he realized that he simply didn't harbor such strength in the face of the truth._

_He had wanted to know if Noa loved Ed and she freely admitted it. Now, there was only one option left for Al._

_He would continue to be a husband to Noa. He would provide for her, protect her, honor her, and he would always love her, but once Ed and Winry were settled, and after Al spoke with his brother about leaving Germany and its increasingly hostile society, he would annul his marriage to the Roma woman. It was the only way to save his heart, and after his wife had just so completely shattered it, there wasn't much left for the young man to salvage…_

* * *

"What a handsome gentleman."

Shaken out of his melancholy memories, Al turned towards the archway and was unable to fight the frown that puckered his features when Noa entered the room.

She was wearing her best gown, an emerald colored dress that was layered with delicate black lace and godets in the skirt. Her heels were T-strapped and polished to a near blinding sheen, and she honored the conventions of high society by wearing gloves and a cloche hat with black bow embellishment. She had pulled her hair up, a few loose chocolate waves tickling her cheeks. She was stunning and Al felt his heart crack. He turned away from her and didn't dignify her entrance with a proper greeting.

Noa stared at her husband's twisted profile and fought back the rush of angry tears that threatened to spoil what was to be a happy day. She couldn't understand why Alphonse had changed suddenly from a kind, gentle-tempered young man into the cold, frustration brimming stranger that stood so near. He wouldn't speak to her unless appearances required it, and he had left their bedroom to sleep elsewhere, giving up his bed to Eddie. Noa's only clue to her husband's sudden shift in behavior was her answer to the question that he had asked her only days before, and since she had answered honestly she couldn't understand why Alphonse was so angry.

Of course she loved Edward. How could she not? He had saved her life, showed her that she had powers beyond her so often exploited psychic gifts, and even after she had betrayed him, he had forgiven her and granted her deepest wish: he never left her alone. She was grateful to him, as loyal as any knight to their liege. Her love for Edward Elric was bottomless. It had become a part of the woman she was, but it was also a deep fraternal love that was impossible to breach the line into romance. After all, Edward loved Winry and Noa was hopelessly in love with Alphonse.

She had dreamed for so long that her husband loved her back and had been thrilled when he admitted to caring for her. That elation was only matched when she had finally confessed her profound regard for him the evening they embraced on the settee that Eddie was sulking on. But as suddenly as her happiness had consumed her, she was now faced with the ugly possibility of being eaten alive by her grief. Noa felt like she was drowning, drifting away from Alphonse and he wasn't doing anything to save her. She needed him to look at her.

"I have a surprise for the wedding," Noa said conversationally, speaking to the side of Alphonse's head, hoping to gain a response.

"What kinda s'prise?" Eddie asked.

"Well, since Edward and Winry are having such a small ceremony I thought I'd call – "

"We're going to be leaving soon. Come on, Eddie, let's get your coat," Al commanded rudely, his tone quiet as always, but with an edge to it that startled Noa as surely as if he had slapped her. He had never been short with her before, and it upset Noa so badly she couldn't define the emotions racing around her heart. Even when her own people had sold her to a greedy, lecherous carnival ringleader Noa had not hurt so badly. Insulted, confused and hurt, Noa wished she had the fire the demand answers from her husband.

When Alphonse finally turned to face her, his butterscotch eyes were hard and dull, and Noa decided that she really had no desire to speak to Alphonse in his current, strange mood. Swallowing a grieving hiccough, Noa shied away from his stare, unable to bear looking at the stranger who wore her husband's face. Eddie took no notice of the transaction between his aunt and uncle and made his way out of the room, Al close behind him. Before exiting, Al stopped near his wife, forcing himself to remember all of his hurt feelings so that he wouldn't be swayed to sympathy. He didn't want to feel sorry for Noa. He wasn't ready to listen to her explanations. He wasn't ready to consider forgiving her.

His only option was to be cruel.

Pulling a cotton handkerchief out of his breast pocket, Al roughly shoved it into her hands, taking the time to make sure that her fingers curled securely around the offering.

"You'll need that. No doubt you'll be crying today."

His words were bitter and ruthless and he left them to hang like mourning shrouds on her shoulders. It seemed appropriate, after all. She was losing the man she loved to another woman, surely that was an occasion to call for tears. Blinking back his own, Al marched away, leaving Noa alone to grasp at his handkerchief, the only part of him she had left.

* * *

When they arrived outside of the offices of Judge Fálmán, they were directed to a sitting area to wait for their appointment. The family of five looked like a painting, each of them dressed in their best outfits, but none could outshine the couple about to be wed. Ed was dressed in his usual fashion, although the black trousers and scarlet vest were newly purchased. His white shirt was starched and pressed, collar and cuffs buttoned and folded with obsessive precision. His white gloves fitted to his fingers like a second skin and the chain of his pocket watch that looped from a fastening to his vest pocket glistened with fresh polish. His jaw was smooth and smelled faintly of sandalwood from his cologne. He had selected to wear his hair up in a ponytail rather than a braid, making him seem very much the man he had finally grown into. Winry's wedding apparel was also new, though the cut of her gown was a few years out of date. It was styled after the flapper fashion and was cream colored. The three-quarter sleeves were edged with pink ribbon and the gloves she was eager to remove after the ceremony were embellished with lace flowers at the wrists. While she had not been able to go without stockings, she had been successful in avoiding high heels in favor of a pair of kid slippers. She had also forgone the traditional wedding veil, instead choosing a floral crown of white stephanotis, vibrant pink peonies, laces of baby's breath and daises, and one large cluster of blue hydrangeas that tucked behind her right ear. The floral crown served as both her veil and bouquet, leaving her hands free to fidget with half contained eagerness in her lap.

"Daddy…" Eddie drawled, tugging on his father's pant leg. "I gotta potty."

"I'll take him," Noa offered, taking Eddie's hand as she led him towards the public restrooms. Al didn't acknowledge her when she passed by him, remaining in his tight, ornery position. He was slouched on the hard wooden bench, arms crossed and chin burrowed against his chest, eyes closed and the brim of his hat pulled low on his brow. Winry nudged Ed and titled her head towards the sulking teenager, her concern expressed clearly in her eyes.

Al's sullen mood over the last four days had not gone unnoticed by his brother or best friend. Noa had not given many details to Winry when they had discussed the young man's moodiness over coffee and cards the previous evening, for even she was completely in the dark over her husband's changed attitude. Winry had her own suspicions about Al and had confided her theories to Ed who agreed, although it was with begrudging coercion.

In the hurry to prepare the final details for their wedding, Ed, Winry and Al hadn't had a moment alone to just be the three friends that had haunted the hills of Resembool. Winry believed that Al was feeling put out, possibly fearing a separation of their trio when they had only just been reunited. Her heart clenched painfully as she looked at Al, thinking of the flurry of worries he was keeping concealed and wanting to reassure his concerns. She slid along the slick surface of the bench until she was pressed tightly against the seventeen year old, her arms going around him as easily as they always had, coaxing his head to rest on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Al?" she whispered against his temple.

He didn't answer, but he sagged helplessly against Winry's body, his arms dropping from their severe position and falling limply to his sides as he finally allowed all of his horrid sentiments to exhaust his limbs. He hadn't wanted to say anything. He hadn't wanted them to notice, not when they were so happy. But after having been locked in an expressionless body for a large part of his young life, Al found he wasn't very good at tucking away his emotions now that he had the means to convey them. Refusing to damper his brother's wedding, Al had bottled up his problems with Noa, and he wouldn't dream of hurting Winry by revealing that another woman was in love with Edward. So he had stayed quiet, letting his pain rot away the soul his brother had fought so hard to win back from the Gate.

"Come on, Al. Tell us," Ed urged, moving so that he was seated on the other side of his brother.

"Is it…are you worried that Ed and I are going to leave?"

Al was startled by Winry's whispered worry, his eyes opening in confusion as he moved to look up at her. Seeing her distress so clearly on her face made Al feel lower than a worm. He had been wallowing in his selfish, hurt feelings, never realizing that Noa wasn't the only one he was upsetting with his stoic disposition.

"I…I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Are you serious?" Ed asked, looping an arm around his brother's neck and roughly pulling him away from Winry. He hadn't been completely convinced when Winry had mentioned her theory about Al's depression and he wanted to see the truth for himself. Throwing the seventeen year old's hat aside, Ed locked eyes with Al and delved deeply for the facts. Though he wasn't sure he knew the core of his brother's troubles, Ed spotted a dim flicker of fear. "You moron."

He thumped Al on the head playfully which earned him his own whack around the ears from his wife-to-be.

"Al, you know Ed and I aren't going anywhere," Winry assured. "We're just getting married. The only thing that will change is my name. We're still going to live together and grow old together, just like we always said we would."

"I remember," Al said softly, his body slowly filling with a stirring warmth that he realized had been absent for the last grueling four days. He flexed his fingers, as if testing them for the first time, feeling like his soul had been lost and returned to his body all over again. In his wounded state, Al knew that, once it was safe, he and Noa would go their separate ways. With Ed, Winry and Eddie making up a neat family of three, Al would be the odd man out, and without really realizing it, he was harboring a small black weight of resentment.

He didn't want to be left behind. He didn't want to be excluded from the happiness of his brother, nephew and sister-in-law. He didn't want to lose them like he had lost Noa.

"I remember when we were little and we used to talk about buying a house for all three of us to live in," Ed said, his voice nostalgic and soft. "It was going to be a white house with a red door and a big yard for all the animals Al wanted. Winry wanted an attached garage where she could do her automail, and – "

"You wanted a library as big as the ones in Central, alchemy freak," Winry teased, smirking over the top of Al's head at her fiancé.

"You're marrying this alchemy freak, so what does that make you?" Ed countered.

"A very brave woman," Al offered, grinning lopsidedly as he raised his head to look at both Ed and Winry. There was a renewed sparkle in his eyes, and though they were still tired, there was a flicker of the old Al rising to the surface.

"Hey! You're my brother. You're supposed to be on my side," Ed snickered as he ruffled Al's hair.

"But he's going to be my brother too now, so that means he can be on my side and you can't do anything about it," Winry stated proudly, looping her arm through Al's. It filled the seventeen year old with a radiant pride when Winry had called him her brother, that simple statement washing away the loneliness that had been threatening to destroy him.

"You'll make a great Elric, Winry," Al complimented before kissing her on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said, her bottom lip quivering as she battled her tears. "Actually, Ed and I were talking and I wanted to know if you'd stand for me."

"But I'm already standing for Ed."

"I know, but you're the only family I have, too, so I wondered…but if you don't want – "

"Of course!" Al exclaimed, taking Winry by the shoulders and planting a quick kiss on her lips.

"Um, excuse me, that's my wife," Ed griped in good humor.

"Consider it loser's compensation," Al said.

"I'm telling you, we never used to fight over who would marry Winry!"

"He's just mad 'cuz I beat him up when we were kids," Al said flippantly. "Relax, Ed. She's marrying you."

The three friends burst out in giddy laughter, the memories of their childhoods tightening their connection more eternally than any marriage ever could.

And Alphonse realized that he would never be alone, no matter what transpired between himself and Noa. He had Ed and Winry and Eddie and their happiness was enough to see him through any trial. Though he knew he would still be hurt and heartbroken for a long time yet to come, he no longer felt as if it was a futile venture. The despair wouldn't drown him. His soul wouldn't rot away. He could march through swamps of black emotions, slip into caverns of unmerciful woe, lose himself in jungles of envy and fear, but he had people who loved him, and as long as the threads of Fate kept him tethered to Ed and Winry, Al could never be locked away in the darkness for long. They would lead him back.

"The judge will see you now," a leggy secretary announced, opening the door to Judge Fálmán's offices. Winry took a deep breath that shifted her entire body while Ed made a grimacing, toothy smile that was the only hint to his nerves. Noa and Eddie were making their way up the hall just as Ed, Al and Winry moved to stand.

"Is it time?" Eddie asked.

"It's time. Come on, bud," Ed clucked, holding out his hand for Eddie to take. They all slipped through the entrance, Al and Noa crossing paths. Although he still wouldn't look at her, Noa noticed the minor change in her husband's attitude immediately. He was smiling very slightly, and there was a life in his eyes that was enduring through the coldness that had taken over. Fighting her nerves, the Roma woman took a step closer to Al and whispered.

"Alphonse? Are you alright?"

Hearing her voice was somewhat jarring, but filled with a restored sense of belonging, Al discovered that getting past his feelings for Noa wouldn't be so daunting.

"I will be," he offered, before politely ushering her into the judge's office and closing the door behind them.

* * *

Judge Fálmán was a tall, sallow colored man who looked much older than his fifty-five years. His finely cropped grey hair was covered by a black cylindrical cap and his robes were completely black, stating his place as a lower court judge. His features were severely wrinkled, hinting at the experiences that decorated his past. His beady grown eyes were inviting as he rose to greet them and Winry smiled prettily, forcing her mind to remain in her body rather than float away in a bubble of giddiness. She didn't want to be one of those silly brides that couldn't control herself during her wedding.

"Welcome," the judge said, taking Winry's hand in his own and bowing respectively. "Do you have your license?"

"Yes. Ed?"

Winry turned to her left to look for her fiancé and spotted him speaking quietly to his child, putting something yellow in the boy's hands before straightening his back and moving to stand by her.

"Here it is, Your Honor," Ed said, offering the papers to Fálmán. Reading over them quickly, the judge placed the license on his desk and offered the couple a tender smile.

"Then let's begin. These are your witnesses?" he asked, looking pointedly at Al and Noa. The pair nodded their consent and moved to stand off to the left side of the office. "We'll get you to sign the papers when the ceremony is complete," Fálmán instructed before turning his full attention on Ed and Winry. "And who is this little man?"

"My son," Ed answered proudly. "You can take your hat off, Eddie."

The child couldn't have been happier to remove the offending garment, nearly chucking it across the room in his exuberance. He stood to Ed's right, swinging his arms lazily as the judge started the ceremony. Fálmán stood in front of his desk, directing Ed and Winry to stand before him, hands clasped together and nervous blushes tingeing their cheeks.

"Well then, welcome. We are gathered today to join these two souls in matrimony. Who gives this woman to this man?"

"I do, Your Honor," Al said, his words spoken with loving pride and when Winry turned to look at the younger Elric, he winked at her with boyish charm.

"And is there anyone here who objects to this union?"

Of course, no one spoke, although Al couldn't help himself and peeked at his wife just to gauge her reaction. She was smiling serenely at the soon-to-be-wed couple, seeming to be genuinely happy about the marriage. However, Al knew that Noa would never dare to interrupt. She wouldn't hurt Ed or Winry with such selfish, callous actions.

"Then we will read the vows."

"Um, Your Honor? If it's alright, Winry and I have our own vows," Ed interrupted. Fálmán seemed a tad put out to have been interposed, but he nodded his consent and urged Ed to proceed.

Turning to face the woman that he was pledging his life to, Ed took her hands, all of his life's pursuits made right in the way her fingers curled around his. Taking in a large gulp of air, the golden eyed man took the first steps into his future.

"Winry…I…I've never done anything to deserve you. All my life other things just seemed to be more important, and sometimes they were, but most of the time…I'm sorry I took so long to figure out how important _you_ are. When you finally came back I swore that I wouldn't make the same mistakes again, but I did, and you've forgiven me and I think I finally understand what my father meant when he said equivalent exchange can't explain everything. I promise to always love you, provide for you, and when you're not being stubborn, I'll protect you, too. I want us to grow old together like we used to say we would when we were kids. My arm and leg have belonged to you since we were ten, but everything else…they've _always_ been yours."

Noa sniffed when Ed concluded his personal vows, her tears slowly slipping down her cheeks. Al looked at the Roma woman, his features tweaked into a sad frown, wondering if her tears were a reaction to hearing Ed's own words declaring that there could be no other woman in his heart but Winry. Still, seeing his wife whimper as they watched the ceremony had a profound affect on Al and he couldn't find the strength to continue being a cold bastard to her. As much as his heart ached, Al reached out for Noa and took her hand in his, offering what little comfort he could.

"Edward," Winry began, her voice airy and soft, "if we were getting married back home, I know exactly what all of our friends would be asking me: '_was he worth waiting for?_'. And I would tell them 'yes'. Sometimes it didn't feel like it would be…sometimes it felt impossible, but now we're here and I know the answer. You have been worth waiting for, worth following, worth loving. You have been so central to who I am that I would be lost if I didn't have you in my life. I promise to love you always, to be a good wife to you and mother to your son, and as long as you're not being overbearing, I'll even let you protect me. I've wanted to marry you since we were kids, so don't make me wait anymore. I only have so much patience."

"Very good," Judge Fálmán murmured, coughing politely behind his closed fist. "And do you both swear to uphold these vows before myself and these witnesses?"

"I do," Ed said with an easy smile and comfortable confidence.

"I do," Winry sighed, excited to finally say the words.

"And now the exchange of the rings."

"Oh, we don't have any," Winry said, blushing slightly when the judge threw her a sympathetic squint.

"Now Eddie," Ed whispered suddenly, patting his son confidently on the crown of his head. Shuffling forward, the child offered up the object Ed had given to him before the ceremony. It was a delicately folded piece of yellow tissue paper and when Winry took it from the boy she could feel a cool prize hidden beneath. Her eyes widened with delight as she folded back the fragile paper and discovered a shiny round object that looked comfortingly familiar. "Do you like it?" Ed asked as he plucked the metal washer from her hands and held it between his fingers.

"How did you – "

"I wanted you to have a ring. So I asked Eddie to sneak this out of your toolbox and I had it shaped. It's not much, but it's the closest thing to a ring that I could give you."

"It's perfect," Winry sighed.

The washer was a bellville model, refined with a larger hole and smooth edges, polished to a foggy hoary sheen and every bit as elegant as any diamond encrusted wedding ring. It was a piece Winry was keenly familiar with and she could recite exactly where similar nuts were located in Ed's automail arm and leg. Metal had forged such a significant part of their relationship that Winry was beyond pleased that Ed hadn't purchased a genuine wedding band with all the deckles. The washer spoke of their history and their friendship. It was who they were.

In a smooth flourish, Winry yanked off the glove on her left hand and offered her finger for her ring.

"Well then," Judge Fálmán sighed, "I'll continue. Place the ring on her finger and repeat after me. With this ring, I take you as my wife."

"With this ring, I take you as my wife," Ed parroted, slipping the reformed washer on Winry's finger. It fit a bit snug, but as Winry had no intention of ever taking the washer off, she didn't mind.

"And now you, miss. With my love in my heart, I take you as my husband."

"With my love in my heart, I take you as my husband," Winry repeated.

"Under this court of law and with my authority and the testament of these witnesses, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Ed and Winry obliged, meeting happily in the middle, their first kiss as a married couple as bright as the first day of summer.

"Me too! Me too!" Eddie insisted, jumping on the balls of his feet and reaching for his father and stepmother. Chuckling, Winry took Eddie into her arms and planted a long, over exaggerated kiss on the three year old's mouth. Ed gave his son the same embrace, smacking his lips loudly when they parted. "Now she can be my Winnie forever!" Eddie cheered, hugging Ed tight around the neck while Winry kept a strong hold around the child's bottom.

The crinkled features of the judge softened as he watched the new family celebrate their union. "May I introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Edward Elric."

"Congratulations!" Noa exclaimed through her happy tears as she and Al joined the three and added to the hug.

"Ahem," Judge Fálmán interrupted as politely as possible. "If I could get the adults to sign the papers."

"Oh! Of course," Al exclaimed, slightly flustered as he moved to the judge's desk and put his name to the formal papers. Once all of the documents were signed, the newlyweds and their family left the Palais de Justice, smiling and chuckling, ready to face the world or Kluge or Kimblee and any of the dangers catapulted at them.

Neither Winry nor Ed could have imagined one week ago that they would be so glad to be married. When Winry had joked that they had far too many problems to wed, she was very serious. Aside from the obvious trust issues, there was the matter that neither was very good at keeping their temper. Both parties were slaves to their passions which could make them cranky and bossy. They were each opinionated, and due to their long history, felt that they could be brutally honest with one another, the results often cruel and insensitive. But as Ed had so eloquently put it on the night he proposed, they were perfect for no one but each other, and since marriage was what their future held, best to get it over and done with so that they could go on with the rest of their lives.

Together.

As a family.

"Where are we going for brunch?" Winry asked as they made their way down the stairs of the Paris courthouse.

"I made reservations at the Luciole," Ed answered. "The food's supp— "

BAM!

Winry, Noa and Eddie shrieked when the sharp, clattering sound of a woman's leather clog hitting Ed in the face smashed through the cheery afterglow that the family had encased themselves in after the ceremony.

"Elric!" someone roared, the booming declaration giving everyone in the square outside of the Palais de Justice pause.

Ed was crumpled on the stone steps, his eyes miniature cyclones of confusion as he tried to regain his bearings, though the large bump that was already forming on his forehead hinted that it would be a few minutes more before his world stopped spinning. Winry knelt down beside her injured husband, patting his cheeks lightly in a vain attempt to revive him while the other three faced the person who had attacked Edward so brutally.

"You inconsiderate, ill mannered, imbecile! I thought I taught you better!"

The woman who growled the insults marched towards the group, her gait lopsided from her missing shoe. With frightening authority, the otherwise unassuming woman made her way towards the fallen Elric, Al and Noa giving her a wide berth.

"Auntie Zumi!" Eddie cheered, hopping down the steps with his arms open wide for a welcome hug. Still scowling, Izumi Longstein gently picked up the child, kissed his cheek, and then returned her scalding ire on Eddie's fallen father.

"After all I've done for you, after all the trouble and sacrifice and hard work, and I didn't even get an invitation to your wedding!"

"Now, Miss Izumi, brother was just –"

"And you!" Izumi roared, slapping Al upside the head before he could finish his placating excuses. "I expected this from Ed, but I thought you had more sense, Alphonse. Instead, I get a phone call from your wife telling me that Ed is getting married this afternoon."

"But Izumi –"

"Do you gotta hit so hard, old woman?" Ed groaned as he struggled to get to his feet.

"What was that?!"

The arguing between Izumi and Ed exploded while Al did his best to bring peace to the matter. And though he was caught in the middle of it, Eddie wasn't concerned at all, snickering at the fight, his arms happily looped around Izumi's neck.

"Hello, Seeg," Noa greeted when the burly man approached the two women. "This is Winry, Ed's wife."

"Nice to meet you," Seeg said, taking Winry's hand in his and kissing it gently, a gesture that seemed strangely out of place for a man of such bulk. Winry greeted Seeg with a warm smile, humbly accepting his congratulations before turning her chagrined stare to the three adults who were making idiotic spectacles of themselves. The scene reminded Winry so much of the way Ed and Al had been with their alchemy teacher that she knew there was no point in trying to defuse the situation.

"This is going to be a while," she sighed looking between Noa and Seeg, "and I have a wedding brunch to get to. Would you two join me?"

"Don't…move!" Izumi growled, marching proudly towards the Elric women and her husband. Ed and Al dragged their feet behind her, each man rubbing a bump on his head and shooting the woman's back severe put-out expressions. Winry held her ground as Izumi approached her, admiration shinning in her eyes for the woman who could reign in the brothers so thoroughly.

"Hello," she greeted when Izumi reached her.

"Hello."

"That's Winnie," Eddie introduced, reaching out to grasp his new mother's shoulders. Izumi handed the boy to Winry, a softness tracing the lines around her eyes as she saw how happy Eddie was with his stepmother.

"I apologize for that, but Noa told me that you have known Edward and Alphonse since they were boys so I'm sure you understand my frustration," Izumi explained, sifting her fingers though her long dark hair while Seeg smoothed out the wrinkles in her suit.

"I think I understand better than anyone," Winry agreed, ignoring Ed's disgruntled snort. "It' good to meet you. I'm sorry you've missed the ceremony, but we were just going to eat. Would you join us?"

"Yes, thank you. That would be ideal."

"Come on, then. Al, where is the restaurant?"

Still stroking the sensitive bump that was forming at the back of his skull, Al obediently took the lead, wondering why he always got thrashed when it was his brother that provoked Izumi's destructive temper.

* * *

A soft melody reached the group from the pianoforte, making the dim lights twinkle and the wine's heady aroma intoxicating. Eddie watched the pianist with drooping eyes, fighting off sleep just to listen to one note more.

"He has his mother's ear for music," Izumi commented, her smile gentle as she watched the three year old.

"Yes. Ed told me that Manka loved the piano."

"She did."

It was getting late. Brunch had easily turned into afternoon tea which slid perfectly into dinner and now, with their bellies full and eyes tired, the evening could turn into late night cocktails. They had talked for hours, Izumi all but interrogating Winry on her childhood and her work experiences, a satisfied smirk touching her lips when Winry explained her pioneering talents in automail engineering. The dark haired woman also seemed to be intrigued by embarrassing stories concerning the Elric brothers, her laughter hearty and thunderous when she was especially entertained by the tales Winry recounted.

At her insistence, the bill was put on Izumi's credit and when Al tried to politely argue, she had flippantly remarked to having partial ownership of the restaurant, claiming she would get a good price for the meal regardless.

Izumi Curtis, known professionally as Longstein, was the president of a European real estate conglomerate, a rarity for a woman Al had bragged. As they had chatted over their various meals, Winry had learned that the strong warrior woman was a ruthless entrepreneur and that she had entered the hard line of work as a rebellion against her father who refused to acknowledge that his daughter had the brains to run a business. She was sharp and witty, a brilliant mind and frighteningly intense. One moment she was ranting at the waiter for bringing the wrong vintage, the next she was cuddling against her burly husband and spewing sweet sentiments into his ear.

She was a fascinating woman and Winry truly admired her.

"I was thinking it might be a good idea to get Eddie some music lessons. Ed and I were talking about it a few days ago. It would be good for him anyway, since the others are gone," Winry commented, the pride she had for Eddie reflecting in her eyes like a stained glass window. Izumi settled in her chair, nodding in silent approval of the woman Ed had taken to wife. "Do you think he's too young?"

"Not if he has talent," Izumi answered, sipping her wine. "He's already showing an interest in it and it's better to nurture natural skills at a young age."

"That's what my grandma always said. It's probably why I was able to become a fully licensed engineer by eighteen," Winry mentioned, a quick pang pinching her heart as she wished that Pinako could have seen her wedding.

"She sounds like she was a wise woman. Of course, I'd expect nothing less from someone who raised you and those boys," Izumi joked.

"Tell me about it," Winry agreed, clinking glasses with the woman before finishing off the rest of her wine. The liquor was warm and rich, brining a fuzzy flush to her face as she relaxed and let the piano music waft around her. It had been a marvelously pleasant day. Winry played idly with her wedding ring, her thumb twisting the washer around her finger as she slowly absorbed the memories and tucked them away like precious keepsakes. The wedding was wonderful, the reality of the ceremony so much more than any of her daydreams had conjured, and the long afternoon of food and conversation was as lulling as a mother's fingers stroking her hair.

"I want you to know," Izumi began, "I consider myself as a guardian to Ed and Al. When Noa told me Ed was getting married I wasn't sure what to expect. Other than Manka, I'd never known Ed to be interested in women, but then, I never knew much about his childhood. I didn't know he was waiting for you."

"Neither did I," Winry admitted, throwing a glance at her husband. He, Al, Noa and Seeg were absorbed in their own conversations, leaving Winry and Izumi able to have a somewhat private conversation. Knowing instinctively that she could trust Izumi, Winry opened her heart. "Ed, Al and I have always had a bond. There's something that ties all three of us together, but then there are other knots that connect me with each of them differently. I've never been in love with Al, but I'm not so sure there was ever a time I wasn't in love with Ed. I want to be with both of them for as long as I can…but in different ways. Does that make sense?"

Izumi nodded, patting Winry's hand reassuringly. She knew very well the difficulties that came hand-in-hand with matters of the heart. In fact, it eased Izumi's concerns to see that Winry had a firm, if inarticulate, grasp on her relationship with the Elric brothers. When Noa had called and told her that Ed was getting married, Izumi had flown into a frenzy, storming to the Palais de Justice like a crazed mother-in-law desperate to save her son from an unthinkable entanglement. Although she arrived too late, Izumi was still going to pass judgment on Ed's new wife before she was satisfied. However, after spending the afternoon together, talking and joking and reminiscing, Izumi knew that she couldn't deny that Winry Rockbell, now Elric, was the ideal match for the hotheaded man she thought of as her own.

Besides, from the heated looks that Ed threw Winry during the entire day, and Winry's own smoldering stare, it was clear that both were very happy in their choice of spouse.

Knowing this, Izumi was quite glad to offer the newlyweds her present.

"Well, it's getting late," she announced, bringing a halt to the conversation the others were having and jolting both Winry and Eddie out of their calm trances. "I think it's time we left. It's way past this young man's bed time, anyway."

"Not sleepy," Eddie argued, rubbing his eyes as Izumi picked him up. He instantly slumped against her shoulder, his eyes closing as he hung like a doll in her arms.

"It's been a long day," Ed agreed, stretching his arms over his head. "Let's go."

The group finished the last of the wine before shifting out of their chairs and putting on their coats. Izumi went to the cloak room to make a very quick business call, and when she returned they left Luciole. They hailed a cab and clamored snuggly inside, assuming they would be dropped off at their townhouse. However, Ed realized that it was taking longer than usual to return to their home and when he began to focus on the scenery outside, he realized that they were nowhere near their neighborhood.

"Izumi, where are you taking us?" Ed asked.

"Al, Noa, and Eddie are coming with Seeg and I to our apartments in Versailles."

"And what about me and Winry?"

"You'll be staying here."

As if it had been immaculately timed, the cab stopped outside of a lavish and brightly lit hotel. Handing the snoozing Eddie to her husband, Izumi slid out of the vehicle and urged Ed and Winry to follow. Confused, but not courageous enough to dare defy the fiery woman, Ed and Winry stepped out of the cab and stood perplexed before Izumi.

"It's my wedding gift. Three days, three nights, inclusive. If there's anything you two want, ring for room service. I'll have your clothes from the townhouse brought here in the morning."

"Izumi, this is The Ritz. The King of England stays here, not me and my wife," Ed exclaimed in total disbelief, staring up at the world's most famous hotel. Snarling, Izumi clobbered Ed over the head.

"Is that the thanks I get?! Where did you learn your manners, on a farm?! You really are a snot-nosed, puny imbecile!"

"I'm not puny! I'm a head taller than you, you crooked old shrew!" Ed cried defensively.

"Shrew?!"

Izumi punched Ed in the jaw, sending the twenty-three year old sailing though the revolving doors of the hotel lobby and terrifying the doorman who hid behind a decorative bush when Izumi calmly made her way towards him, Winry's arm linked with hers.

"This is really very generous," Winry said, stepping over Ed's crumpled form as the older woman led her towards the front desk. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Every marriage should start off with a honeymoon full of lavish excess. Now, go check in. The reservation is under my name."

Winry did as Izumi bade, not too concerned for her husband. After all, she had seen him beaten far worse by the Izumi that had served as his alchemy teacher and he had survived.

Ed was already moving to stand up when Izumi returned to his side. He flinched, prepared to be struck again, but the only thing his associate threw at him was a bored grimace followed by an eye roll. Realizing he wasn't about to be pummeled, Ed relaxed his stance and complied when Izumi slipped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"I don't think I have to tell you," she whispered, "that tonight is a special night."

"Believe me, I know," Ed answered, his mind having been occupied with heady fantasies of what he and Winry would finally share. It had been damn difficult to keep himself from doing more than tease Winry over the last week. It felt as if he had been cursed with a permanent erection that was doomed to never be sated. He wasn't sure exactly what would happen when he and his wife were finally alone, the electricity between them so fierce that he could almost hear the crackle of static attraction when they were close. Perhaps Izumi's gift of a private hotel room, extravagant or not, was the perfect present.

"Now, Winry told me that you and she haven't been intimate and I just want to make sure that you know what you're doing as far as she's concerned."

"What?!" Ed hissed, his nose turning scarlet.

"Be sure to be gentle with her. Take the time to pay attention to her needs. Remember, this isn't just about you," Izumi explained as easily as if she were discussing a business merger.

"Izumi! I know how to have sex! I have a son!"

"Children are a matter of biology and have nothing to do with how you make love," the dark haired woman stated clinically. Ed ground his teeth together, his whole body trapped in the throes of raging tremors as he realized that he was being given sex advice by a woman that he considered to be his surrogate mother. If he died of embarrassment in the lobby of The Ritz, Izumi wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he satisfied Winry in bed.

"We're checked in," Winry said, jingling the keys to their room and saving Ed from death-by-mortification. "Thanks again, Izumi."

The women embraced quickly before Izumi turned to exit, bellhops leaping out of her way.

"Don't forget what I said, Edward."

"How could I forget?" the man grumbled, blushing with renewed humiliation as he waved farewell.

"Come on, let's go see our room," Winry suggested, pulling on Ed's arm and directing him towards the elevators. Her touch had a strange duel affect on Ed, equally calming and nerve-wracking as Izumi's words bounced through his mind, making him second guess his plans for seduction. His gait was stiff as he and Winry exited the elevator. He let his wife lead him to their room. He remained silent as he watched her stop in front of a long white door, place the key in the lock, and step back to observe the entry.

Both knew what would happen the moment they crossed the threshold. While the wedding ceremony had been a big step in their relationship, there was something far more powerful and terrifying that would take place when they entered their honeymoon suite. Once they moved into the room, everything would change with no hope for it to go back to the way it was before.

Although she was beginning to feel her stomach flutter, Winry was still smiling, ready to cross that line; ready to tighten the knots that had kept them bound together for so long. Feeling Ed's flesh fingers link with hers and squeeze, Winry turned towards her husband, finding herself eager to move forward.

"Um, there's a custom in this world," Ed stammered anxiously. "The groom carries the bride over the threshold."

"Why?"

"I'm not really sure, but it's an old tradition and it's supposed to get a marriage started off on the right foot," he chuckled.

"I can walk on my own two feet," Winry answered gently. "I don't need you to carry me, Ed. We can walk over the threshold together."

Ed smiled at Winry's solution, relieved and proud. He couldn't stomach the image of Winry being a simpering housewife who needed him to gently guide her through each day. She was stronger than that, stronger than him even, and her smile cured him of all fears. Winry was his wife. She loved him and he loved her. She was his support and he knew that he was never going to let her lose faith in him again. With his chin tilted cockily and his golden eyes sparkling with all sorts of wicked promises, Ed kissed Winry's hand and unlocked the door. They crossed the threshold together, equals in their marriage, and holding their breath, they moved forward on their own legs.

* * *

_And that's another chapter down!_

_Sorry for the delay. This time of year is chaotic, as I'm sure everyone knows, and to top it all off, I'm getting a very minor, very little risk, surgery this week, so getting myself prepped for that has been a major time eater. I really wanted to get two chapters out before I went in, but it looks like that isn't going to happen. However, I do have a good chunk of the next chapter finished so as I make my recovery I'll be able to keep on writing since that's about all I'll be able to do for about ten days. _

_Now, enough about me and on to the chapter notes._

_So, I'm sure some of you are pulling their hair out over Al and Noa. I can hear so many of you screaming 'Al just talk to her!', but like his brother, dear sweet Alphonse is just a tad emotionally constipated when it comes to love. Don't worry, things will get resolved, and don't think that just because Ed and Winry are now together that they're going to become dull, lovey-dovey drones. There will be passion between them, as there has always been, and you're gonna love the next chapter. And what did you think of Izumi's cameo? I was so excited to write her. She was originally only going to be mentioned, but I decided to give her a few scenes. I can just picture her giving Ed and Al 'the talk' when they were her alchemy students, can't you? Now that would be a hilarious fanfic to read!_

_To my anonymous reviewers: _

**Shingmei:** _I'm really glad you liked the chapter. I was excited to write an Ed/Eddie scene and I think readers wanted to see that father/son relationship. As for your thoughts on Winry moving out with Ed and Eddie, you're on the right track but I think you'll be surprised at what is going to happen in their future. Thanks for dropping a review! I really appreciate it._

**roseofsharon28**: _Hi! Sorry the update took so long, but I hope you enjoyed the wedding bells! Good to hear from you again and take care!_

**ElricBrosRuleMyWorld**: _Thank you very much. I actually wasn't sure how readers would react when I started adding information and backgrounds and sub-plots for the other characters, but it seems that everyone is enjoying the full circle of these characters' journeys. I really, really appreciate the review and I hope I'll hear from you again._

_Thanks to everyone who has been reading and a special, extra large hug for everyone who has been so patient with me and this chapter. _

_Let me know what you thought, and no flames, please and thank you!_

_Take care everyone!_

**Giant Nickel**


	23. Complete

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own the DVDs, but I don't think that counts._

**A/N:**_ This chapter needs no introduction._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Complete**

_France_

_18. Oct. 28_

***

The room was lavish. White walls were embellished with curving floral reliefs and delicately painted murals. The boarder details reminded Winry of the waves of the sea, their bulky, rolling beauty carrying her eye all around the spacious sitting room, encouraging her to further settle herself into the luxury that the chamber promised. Walking past Ed, who was still gawking at the obvious expense Izumi had invested for his wedding night, Winry ran her fingertips over the soft lines of the wood frame of the sofa, the plush smoothness of the silk cushions, and the gilded frame of an ornate Rococo mirror. She smirked to herself when she realized that all of the fabrics were colored scarlet intertwined with the barest traces of gold thread. Everything was rich and sultry and it reminded Winry of her new husband, making her belly clench.

Licking her lips, Winry didn't allow her imagination to carry her too far away. She was just as nervous for her wedding night as she was excited, the memory of the liberties Ed had taken with her in the shower causing a shiver to run down her spine. It wasn't only that moment, however, that left her imagination running wild and wanton.

True to his promise, Ed had not made love to Winry once in the week leading up to their wedding. Although she had insisted that there was no reason for them to wait – even trying to persuade him with passionate kisses and teasing hands – Ed hadn't broken his oath. Instead, he had done something far worse. Every night for a week he would crawl into her bed, his body spooning around hers, arms thrown around her belly, groin nestled snug against her backside, and he would whisper to her every delicious act of lovemaking he intended on showering on her once they were married. Sometimes he would caress her as he spoke, languidly massaging her breasts or rubbing between her legs. Often he would get hard against her, but he never allowed Winry to relieve him, purposely trapping himself in a state of straining want like some torturous foreplay.

Rubbing her thighs together as Ed's whispers echoed through her mind, Winry tried not to blush when she brushed past him to open the double doors that led to the bedroom.

"Oh look…" she sighed, admiring the chamber with soft, half lidded eyes. Ed made his way to her side, his eyes still trained in awe at the sitting room for a moment longer before turning his attention to the bedroom.

"Wow. She really went out of her way, didn't she?" Ed commented gratefully as he walked into the room and circled the brass cart that was topped with silver platters of strawberries and cream and two bottles of fine pink champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, two crystal flutes placed expectantly next to it.

"We have to thank her," Winry noted as she picked up one of the champagne flutes and held it up to the dimmed chandelier light. Closing one eye, Winry perused the bedroom through the crystal. It was like looking through cool, spring water, making the majesty of the opulent room seem even more like a dream. There was a fireplace in the corner with warm flames blazing, their comforting crackle easing the few jitters that began to tickle across the young woman's body when her eyes fell onto the bed.

It was a giant piece of furniture, easily able to fit five people comfortably without their elbows bumping together. The frame and spiraling canopy pillars were made of white marble and the whole structure was seated on a dais, two velvet covered steps on each side of the bed. The coverlet and pillows on the bed were a dark crimson, soft and rich, just begging the newlyweds to tiptoe up the velvet steps and lose themselves to their passion.

Setting the flute back on the cart, Winry gulped, rubbing one hand along her belly as if trying to stroke away the tension that was building within her. She was no virgin, and she had seen Ed naked, so the usual wedding night jitters were not what were plaguing the young woman. Winry was still afraid, despite Ed's promises to the contrary, that when it came to sex she would be as terribly inadequate as her past lover had claimed. The very thought of disappointing Edward in bed was a horrifying sting to Winry's confidence and she fought hard and silently to quell her worries. She wanted the night to be perfect, and fussing over her nerves would only put a damper on the mood.

Mustering up her courage, Winry dared to turn and gaze openly at her new husband.

"What?" she asked when she realized that he had been staring at her, his golden eyes flickering like the flames of the fire. Instead of answering her, Ed flashed Winry a devilish grin she was very familiar with. It was the same grin he used to get when he was about to pull a prank on either herself or Al, and since the younger Elric was on his way to the countryside, Winry knew she was cornered.

Ed charged, scooping Winry up into his arms, holding her to him by the waist as he spun around the room, laughing when her legs fanned out and her arms immediately locked around his neck. Letting out a short squeak of surprise, Winry giggled, remembering how Ed often used to swing her around in just this way when they were children.

"My Winry lies over the ocean. My Winry lies over the sea. My Winry lies over the ocean. Oh bring back my Winry to me!"

"What are you doing?" she chuckled.

"Singing."

"You never sing."

"Never had a reason to."

Blushing at the touching compliment, Winry peppered Ed's neck with kisses. He continued to sing the tune, his spinning slowing until they were standing in the middle of bedroom, Winry's bottom and back pressed up against the bed. Ed moved quickly then and caught her lips with his own. His mouth was wet and warm, only making the woman in his arms want more. Breaking away, Ed pressed his forehead against Winry's, waiting patiently until she opened her eyes to look into his own.

"The winds have blown over the ocean. The winds have blown over the sea. The winds have blown over the ocean. And brought back my Winry to me."

He whispered the last refrain until he was speaking the final line, a raw, resonant tenor to his voice that vibrated from deep within his chest and moved Winry nearly to tears. With her fingers playing in his hair, Winry was lost in the honest swirls of Ed's dark golden eyes.

"Maybe I should be singing that song," she whispered. "You were the one who always left and came back."

"Not this last time. You came back to me," Ed answered.

"Must be Fate," she sighed dramatically, smiling at her husband before he kissed her hungrily, one of is hands moving to cradle the back of her neck while the other wandered low on her waist before smugly capturing her bottom in a firm, lifting grip. Winry groaned into Ed's mouth, her mind dizzy with the sensation of his fingers squeezing her rear end and holding her close against his body. A rush of heat settled in her lower belly, urging her to be bold and brazen. Lifting one long, stocking clad leg, Winry wrapped it tight around Ed's hip, pulling him closer against her, grinding along the firm bulge nestled between his legs and smiling into their kiss when he bumped back. The excitement was building with each kiss, a tornado of cresting emotions that were pulling Ed and Winry like two swirling funnels into the centre, creating a super-storm of frenzied desire.

Shivering under the blissful stinging assault her emotions were playing on her body, Winry rolled her tongue inside of Ed's mouth, taking charge of the kiss and introducing a desperate new fire to their embrace. Her worries vanished under the assault of Ed's lips and she found that she couldn't contain her eagerness to finally be intimate with the man. Her clothes, so painstakingly selected just days before, were now suffocating her and she couldn't wait for them to be removed. She broke their kiss, gasping for air as her arms curved back to grasp at the mother-of-pearl buttons keeping her dress fastened to her body. As Winry struggled to undress herself, Ed burrowed his face in the crook of her neck, lazily licking away the sweat that hid behind her ear.

"You smell so _good_," he growled, moving one hand to urge her to arch her neck for his mindlessly pleasurable exploration. He wanted to bathe in her scent, drown in it if he could, craving the salty flavor tinged with lavender soap and the subtle, almost invisible hint of oil.

"Help me…" Winry whined in a sultry tone, bumping against Ed in frustration. Removing his face from her neck, he looked down into Winry's passion-glazed eyes and smiled at her furious enthusiasm. She looked absolutely gorgeous in his arms, her back arched as she tried to strip, her breasts heaving teasingly against his chest, her hair perfectly askew, and her lips dark and swollen.

And she was still dressed.

Moving with a renewed motivation, Ed wrapped his arms around Winry and all but attacked the insufferable delicate buttons at her back, his fingers tangling with hers and fumbling just as badly.

"Take these off!" Winry commanded, struggling to twist her hands around Ed's fingers and pull his gloves off. It was difficult to achieve the act behind her back, and Ed didn't co-operate, finding it amusing to wiggle his fingers out of her grip as she groped for his gloves. "Don't be impossible," she warned, kissing his chin over and over until she finally succeeded in her task. Linking their bare fingers together, Winry squeezed them meaningfully. "I love how your hands feel on my skin. _Both_ of them."

Her words increased a fire that Ed didn't believe was possible to further fuel. He was determined to make his wedding night blissful for his bride and if she wanted to feel both of his hands on her skin then he would gladly oblige. Releasing her fingers and giving her hands playful dismissing pats, Ed worked with artful relish on every mother-of-pearl fastener. Winry didn't remain idle as Ed worked, quickly removing his vest and unsnapping his suspenders before rushing to undo every button of his shirt and rip the offending article open to reveal a thin undershirt that molded to his chest like a second skin. Holding onto the parted material as if the treasure that was Ed would vaporize if she let go, Winry stared at her husband with an honest hunger, free of all bashfulness and uncertainty.

Ed gently slipped his fingers under Winry's cream colored dress, his fingertips tickling her shoulders as he slowly pushed the gown from her body, urging her to release his shirt so that her outfit could drop to the floor in a forgotten wave at her feet. She was dressed in a thin linen chemise adorned with a simple lace trim and a blue ribbon along the bust. Her nipples were hard and straining under the material, inviting Ed to take one into his mouth. Before he could move, however, Winry pressed herself tightly against his body, scraping her teeth along his collarbone as she deftly untucked his undershirt and pulled it over his head. Her actions were uncoordinated, almost violent, and as soon as his chest was bare Winry latched her lips to one of his dark pebbled nipples.

He hissed as she suckled, her mouth warm and wet and her tongue a naughty devil as it flicked over him. Ed closed his eyes and hummed in bliss, the low rumble shaking Winry and daring her to continue her torture. He placed his flesh hand on the crown of her head, looking down on her with charged fascination. She moved to attack his neglected nipple, her fingers trailing up his torso to pinch the one she had just abandoned. Moaning when she pinched a tad too hard, Ed yanked Winry away from his body and bruised her lips with a searing kiss. His mouth was open, his tongue slick and sure, knowing where to tease to make her melt in his arms. But Winry wouldn't be won so easily and she fought back, pressing into Ed's kiss so harshly that their teeth clanked together. She moved like she wanted to sink into his flesh, raking her nails along his chest and belly, bumping her hips with his recklessly and breathing hard along his face. Shifting roughly, she pulled on Ed's hair.

"Ouch!" the young man whined, his lips smacking as he pulled away.

"Sorry," Winry groaned, panting as she gently untwined her fingers from the golden tresses. He rubbed the sore spot on his skull, his lips shifting into a puckered pout that almost made his mouth look like a disgruntled triangle. Winry felt the bubbly, euphoric sensation swell around her heart and spread throughout her body until she couldn't contain it any longer.

She laughed, a giddy glorious sound that tinkled throughout the room. It was contagious, and soon Ed joined his wife in her tension draining chuckles, feeling his ardor hold strong, but at the same time losing its agonizing intensity. They laughed together in the room, the crackling fire accompanying their chortles. Gripping lightly onto the other's shoulders, they relished in their new union. Their passion burned bright, but a new intimacy was settling in their eyes. It was deep and overflowing and true, and it brought them closer together than sex ever could.

Still, sex would be nice, but a little teasing foreplay was far too tempting.

"We should eat those strawberries," Ed croaked. "I mean, Izumi will be pretty pissed if we let them go bad."

"You're just scared she'll kick your ass if she finds out you let her gift rot," Winry joked, grateful for Ed's choice of distraction from the sexual calamity that was stuffing her mind like cotton baton.

"Your loss if I can't move," Ed countered with a cocky grin.

"Well, aren't we full of ourselves."

"You wouldn't have me any other way," Ed stated proudly as he scooped up the platters of strawberries and cream and made a hazardous dive for the bed, barely making it onto the high mattress. Winry chuckled at her husband's childishness before leaping onto the bed as well. She nearly fell off, saved by her quick grip on a marble pillar and Ed's hand curling under the collar of her chemise. She landed on her belly, nearly upsetting the bowl of cream, laughing quietly the whole while, gracing Ed with a charming smile before dipping one finger into the cream and popping it into her mouth.

"Mmm…"

"If I liked cream, that would be pretty sexy," Ed snorted hoarsely before shoving several strawberries into his mouth, hoping his furious chomping would soothe the very forceful, one-track demands of his cock. Winry ignored Ed's discomfort, enjoying the sensual power she had over him, discovering just how much fun it was to be in possession of breasts and hips and how she could use them to make her man sweat. The platter of strawberries was nestled in the 'v' of Ed's crossed legs, and Winry stretched like a cat as she reached over to pluck one of the ripe red berries, purposely running her knuckles along his inner thigh before bringing the fruit to her mouth.

"Oops," she exclaimed lightly without a trace of remorse.

" 'Oops' my ass," Ed countered, moving so that he too was reclined on his belly, his nose inches away from hers.

"And what a nice ass it is," she offered, holding a strawberry against Ed's mouth as a means of truce. He bit into the berry, making a grand gesture of just how sweet it was, moaning as he smacked his lips together and even wiggling his bottom for Winry's benefit. "You've got some juice on your chin," she said before leaning forward and licking the offending red stain.

"That's the oldest trick in the book. If you wanted to kiss me all you had to do was ask nicely."

"You are so –"

"And you wouldn't have me any other way," Ed stated again, quickly stuffing a cream covered strawberry into Winry's mouth before she could argue. She narrowed her eyes as she chewed, clearly prepared to let Ed have it when she swallowed, so the golden haired man beat her to it. He kissed the corner of her mouth, tasting the barest hint of sweetness before whispering against her skin. "You have this infuriating need to keep my ego I check, and I wouldn't have _you_ any other way."

"You mean you don't want me to agree with your every opinion? Stroke your pride? Be simpering and docile and quiet?"

"Hell no! You do that and I'll divorce you!"

"On what grounds?"

"False representation. You're a spitfire, Win. You start acting all calm and nice and I won't know what to do with you," Ed admitted, as much making a jest as he was being serious.

"So you're saying you know what to do with me when I'm worked up and angry?"

"Yep."

"And if I'm throwing a wrench?"

"Especially when you're throwing a wrench! Just before you beat my skull in with that thing, your cheeks puffed and pink and your eyes large and dark, I think that's when you look your most beautiful," he confessed, pleased when she blushed under his barrage of admirations.

"That's sweet, Ed, but I think you're a glutton for punishment. Are you sure you're not a sadist?"

"You're not funny," he grumbled, rolling onto his back and popping a few more berries into his mouth while Winry chuckled.

"Here," she said, holding a fat strawberry above him. "Is this another one of those old tricks?"

Ed stared at the berry, catching a drop of tangy juice as it fell on the seam of his lips before craning his neck to take the gift into his mouth. He smirked at Winry's stuttering intake of breath as his lips devoured both the fruit and two of her fingers. He chewed the strawberry gently, his teeth nibbling at her fingertips as his tongue played along the digits, tasting the juice on her skin, believing the flavor to be the most exotic he had ever indulged. She pulled her fingers away slowly, the slight suction of his mouth and the reflection of the fire in his eyes making her toes curl.

"Definitely an old trick," Ed stated, his voice low and rough like the distant crash of waves hitting the beach, "but it has its charms."

Winry gulped, her breath coming in heavy, heaving gasps, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she drowned in the liquid fire of Ed's golden eyes.

"Still hungry?" she asked huskily.

"Not for strawberries."

"Me neither."

She leaned over his body like a shield, her face all he could see in the world, and took his lips in hers, soft and pliant, unwilling to let him escape her as he had done for so many years. Ed bit at her bottom lip, appeasing the sting with his tongue, moving over her mouth in slow circles.

"Here," Winry said, shifting to her knees and shoving the bowl of cream into his hands. "Get these off the bed before we make a mess."

Taking the empty strawberry platter as well, Ed scurried off the bed and set the dishes back on the cart. When he turned to face Winry, he held his breath, blocking the laughter that was threatening to erupt as he watched his wife struggle to get out of her clothes. She was kneeling, the frills on her short cotton bloomers reminding Ed of the muslin dresses she used to wear as a little girl. Her stockings were gone and her camisole was raised high, leaving her torso bare for his gaze to rove, her bellybutton perfectly charming as she swiveled this way and that, struggling to pull the linen over her head.

"Damn buttons! Why does everything in this world have buttons?" she cursed lowly, resorting to yanking the chemise so roughly Ed heard some of the seams tear. "Ed, I can hear you laughing. If you don't help right now you can forget about seeing the rest of me."

Taking the threat very seriously, Ed was at Winry's side in moments, undoing the buttons with an easy flourish before taking her by the waist and planting a hard, lingering kiss on her navel, his tongue lapping against the dip as his hands ran up her bare back, feeling her muscles relax against him as she arched away to throw the chemise off her body.

Her breasts were bare, the nipples dusky pink and swollen. He took one between his teeth, pulling brusquely and making her moan as she straightened and moved to straddle the hard expanse of his right thigh. Ed groaned, his hands moving to rest on the swell of her rear as he encouraged her to ride along his leg slowly, the pressure hot and perfect.

Winry looped her arms around his neck, her mind going dizzy with the sensations Ed was spilling on her. His hands on her half exposed bottom were warm and gentle, urging her to slide back and forth along his thigh, the friction sending jolts of little firecracker bursts shooting up her spine, the excess energy falling down her body to settle in the aching cauldron of her womb. He was still suckling her, both of her nipples raw and wet, glistening like tight pink stars on the expansive galaxy of her light, doe-colored skin. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed as she succumbed to the sensation of being worshiped by a man. When the slick, smooth movement of one of Ed's clever automail fingers dipping into the crevice of her backside sent a hot chill through her body, Winry mewled and launched forward, forcing her husband's lips onto hers, the scant flavor of strawberries buried on his tongue.

She held his jaw between her hands when they pulled apart, ochroid and sapphire swirling with dark promises and even darker passions.

"You take off yours, I'll take off mine," Winry huffed, struggling to breathe. She raked her nails along Ed's shoulders, licking her lips as if she were preparing to sink her teeth into him. Ed's heart pounded as she slid off his thigh. He felt her heat, the barest traces of moisture dotting his trousers when she left him. He moved with purposeful vigor, his belt and fly buttons loose in seconds before his trousers and underwear were torn from his body and tossed into a corner of the bedroom, crumpled and forgotten. Winry moved just as madly, her bloomers catching on the velvet steps against the bed as she crawled under the heavy duvet, sinking with a calm sigh against the plush pillows.

Ed joined her, a wracking shudder tormenting his every muscle when the cool sheets brushed his cock. He was painfully hard and feverish, ready to take what Winry was ready to give, but he refused to let his body rush through the moment. Winry hadn't kept it a secret that her experience with sex was limited and unpleasant. Her past lover hadn't been attentive, fulfilling his own needs before hers, and between his own pride and the warning Izumi had given him about listening to what Winry wanted, Ed was determined to have his wife begging for release before he even considered his own body.

Under the sheets and lying side by side, a shuddering calmness took hold of the couple. There was no pretense or uncertainty, no mixed signals or anxiety. There was simply Edward and Winry, vulnerable and together, savoring every second as it slipped by.

He was almost too slow as he moved to rest on top of her, his automail hand supporting his weight as his flesh one charted lazy courses down her body, tracing her with his nimble, rounded fingers. She did the same, taking her time to enjoy the quiet chance to study Ed with her hands, closing her eyes as her thumbs played around his jaw, her palms smoothing down his stomach and hips, raising up to circle his back and dance around the ridges of his spine.

They kissed as if time was nothing, teasing and long, then quick and harried, tasting, retreating, savoring and fleeting. When Ed took a nipple between his teeth, the urgency began to pound in Winry's ears, her blood screaming for proper release as a stinging emptiness seemed to splinter her being. His metal hand moved to test the weight of one breast, squeezing it gently, letting her heat warm it before slinking further down her body, past her navel and the dip of her hip, before resting with agonizing tenderness along the inside of her left thigh.

And when Ed's automail was exactly where he wanted it to be, his lips followed.

Straddled between her thighs, Ed kept his gaze trained on Winry as he raised one deliciously long leg up to rest on his shoulder so that he could lavish kisses on her from ankle to knee. He watched her writhe beneath him, her arms thrown over her eyes as she struggled with every breath, the bewitching blush of passion staining her cheeks. He wanted to see her come undone, and so he continued his trail of kisses past her knee and up her thigh. The closer he got to her centre the longer his kisses became. He listened to every whine and purr that shook his wife and when her crisp flaxen curls were tickling his nose, he smirked like a conquering pirate when Winry sucked in a deep breath and held it expectantly, her body tense as she waited.

He latched onto the soft skin of her inner thigh, his teeth and lips working greedily as he sucked and pulled, refusing to let go even when Winry's hands yanked hard on his hair in a blind frenzy as she tried to move his lips to where she wanted them. Her scent was intoxicating, spicy and heady, far more indulgent than all the wine in France. Ed relished being surrounded by Winry's fragrance, showing his appreciation by adding even more suction to his hard kiss. When he was certain the circle of skin was plum and bruised, Ed pulled away and admired the sensitive love bite, barbarically proud of himself for leaving a brand on his woman. Giving the discolored skin a final quick nip, Ed crawled his way back up Winry's body, resting his head contently between her breasts, listening with smug gratification to the staccato drum of his wife's heart.

"You're not being funny," she groaned, stroking his hair.

"I'm not trying to be."

"I'm ready, Ed. Really," Winry pleaded, taking his left hand in her own and kissing his knuckles before leading it to the hot velvet softness between her thighs. She curled her fingers around his, urging him to explore. Ed shuddered, unable to stop the involuntary thrust of his hips against Winry's belly when his fingers caressed the silky, yielding flesh. She was slick and so very, very soft. He muffled his groan against her shoulder, carefully slipping his longest finger inside her.

"Oh!" Winry gasped, her nails digging into Ed's shoulders as he pumped shallowly, assuring her readiness, stretching her just a little, encouraging her body to reach a spectacular climax so that her mind would be foggy with blissful satisfaction before his incursion. He moved to rest the tip of his cock at her entrance, teasing himself with the fingers that had worked to make his intrusion as comfortable as possible. He braced himself on his elbows, his face hovering over hers, their hair tangling together to fall on the red pillow like golden silk. He kissed her with coaxing purpose, romancing her lips so that she might ignore his first breeching thrust.

And then it happened.

Pressing the heel of her palms to the small of his back, Winry gave her husband a hard, definitive push, at the same time bracing her legs apart as much as was comfortable. He was encompassed by her body in one easy movement, fitting snug and warm in the fleshy cavity as if it was designed for him alone. They moaned in unison, their bodies arching together. Winry's hands were tight around Ed's back, keeping him still and secure while Ed's legs trembled as he soaked in the reality of finally being one with her.

She was burning, so much hotter than he had imagined, and Ed wondered illogically if their skin would fuse, leaving them forever entangled together for the rest of their days. And then he wondered if he really cared at all because she was so tight and warm and perfect that he decided that an eternity inside of Winry was exactly how he would like to spend the whole of their marriage.

But then her muscles quickened against him and the driving urge to move wracked his body.

"Are you –"

"Yes…" she sighed, her voice small and filled with wonder.

She had no idea it could be like this! Her enthusiastic push had forced Ed into her a tad roughly, but the stretching discomfort had passed with each hard beat of her heart, and Winry realized that Ed was inside her, his hips cradled against hers, his cock hard and blistering as it sat in her sheath.

The vexing emptiness that had been plaguing her from the moment they had entered the hotel suite was filled, but in the dawning of that gratification came a wave of such devastating completeness that Winry thought she might faint. It was more than having her desires sated. It was the absolute healing of the hollowness that had been gnawing at her soul since the day Ed had set fire to his past. As if she had always known and never known, Winry realized that she had been burning, too, the flames licking at her flesh, consuming her heart, scorching her soul, leaving her to smoke and burn-out into grey ash. But now, there was a wave of relief, like a weir of cold clear spring water had put out the blaze and flooded her, filling in the cracks and scars until she was whole and healed and new.

It was everything.

_They_ were everything.

"Dammit! Win, I'm sorry," Ed whispered, his breath damp on her cheek and Winry realized that there were tears slipping down the sides of her face. Her husband wiped at them clumsily, his flesh fingers blunt and warm, his metal fingers smooth and cool. He looked so charmingly distressed as he worried for her comfort that Winry felt her love for him coarse through her nerves like the quick, shattering jolt of automail attachment. She lost her fingers in his hair and kissed him, hoping he could feel her soul.

"I love you," she confessed breathily. "Move."

"But Win –"

"Don't make me tell you again."

He chuckled then, the slight tremors of his laughter barely shifting their bodies, but it was enough to remind the couple of the act they were more than willing to complete.

"And don't hold back," Winry warned as Ed moved to slide out of her. She locked eyes with him, their dark glimmer making it very clear that she wanted all of what he had to give, unwilling to settle for less. Smirking cockily, Ed moved to hook one of her legs in the crook of his elbow, opening her further, pumping into her deeper, and relishing the way her eyes never closed, trained only on him as they made love.

Winry savored every motion, each thrust of Ed's hips a new discovery. She loved the feeling of him inside her, and when he would pull back she followed, her body desperate to keep his heat. Ed growled as Winry bucked against him, her passage so tight and untried that his mind was lost to the deluge of his desire. The rhythm beat through is body, unleashing a savage beast that knew nothing but fulfillment and how to achieve it. Releasing Winry's leg, Ed moved to place his open palm on the curve of her plump buttocks, angling it so that every time he plunged into her his cock would titillate the petite bundle of nerves that were sure to make her scream his name.

There was a new fire building that had taken hold of Winry. In one breath she had believed her heart to be freed of the flames that had kept her and Ed apart for so long, and in the next, she felt her soul burst into a showering blaze, the heat wrapping around them both, promising to combust them together in a grand inferno of red and gold.

And she welcomed the fire, daring it to do its worst.

She was lost, a slave to her body and its bristling demands. Her breath hitched as she felt Ed expand within her, his eyes closing tight, a vein in his neck pressing with brutal force against his skin and his mouth grimacing beautifully just when a rush of wet heat shot from him to her. His fingers dug into the sheets at either side of her head and Winry's nails tore at the flesh of Ed's shoulders, her heart ceasing to beat as he growled her name, his breath sweet on her brow. He pumped a final time, his seed spent and settled deep within her womb, nearly collapsing on top of her, his body trembling. As he moved to slowly slip out of Winry's slick passage, her inner muscles spasmed, gripping his cock desperately as she discovered her own orgasm, the unintelligible sound that ripped from her lips the garbled name of her husband.

She arched off the bed as the power of her climax wracked her body. Ed bowed against her, pressing their damp cheeks together as her muscles milked him, following her hips back down to the bed when she became a puddle of pudding limbs and tingling nerves, a gentle smile smoothing her lips and wonder shinning in her sapphire-like eyes. Each breath pressed her breasts along Ed's chest, at first hard and rapid, then slowing into lulling reminders of her wonderful existence.

Ed moved to slip his cock out of her and shift to one side when she stopped him, arms circling his back, palms rubbing leisurely against the smooth muscles.

"Stay," she sighed. "I like you right where you are."

Ed complied without complaint, slumping fully against his wife, nestling his head in the crook of her neck where he laid a wet kiss as fatigue coaxed him into a peaceful slumber. His last sensation of the night was feeling Winry curve her leg to run along his automail calf, her whispers of love kissing the shell of his ear before dreams of home and wholeness whisked him away.

* * *

_***_

_France _

_19. Oct. 28_

***

Winry yawned loudly as she woke, her vision hazy and mind muddled, but her body so warmly relaxed that the slow consciousness of her senses was hardly a concern. Smiling, she rolled along the bed, thinking she would bump into the hard muscular planes of her husband, but was sorely surprised to discover that she was alone. Crinkling her brows, Winry sat up in the bed and searched the room.

It was very dark, dawn still a few hours away. The fire had gone out long ago, the ashes cold and no longer smoking. Winry had thought she would find Ed preparing to restock the fireplace, but instead she spotted his inky silhouette standing near the window. His figure was bare, his hair down and arms braced against the frame as he stared at the panorama of Paris. Knowing he was lost to his thoughts, Winry wondered if he wanted company to traipse the oceans of his mind.

Draping one of the sheets around her body, Winry slithered out of the bed and padded lightly towards her husband. From the way his shoulders relaxed, she knew that he could feel her behind him. Rather than turn to regard her, Ed kept his focus on the city, giving Winry the peaceful chance to admire his back. She had traced the contours of those muscles many times, charted the faded scars and polished the shoulder port. It was a lovely back, strong and smooth, the spine dipping along the centre of bronzed skin and ending in the firm, plump mounds of his buttocks. Running her fingers across his shoulder blades, Winry planted a gentle kiss in the middle of Ed's spine, working her lips higher until she was kissing the back of his neck and her arms were wrapped securely about his middle. She smiled when Ed's flesh hand joined hers, interlocking just above his naval.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

"Fine," Winry answered, smirking against his skin as she snuggled along his back. "Better than fine. Incredible. Amazing. Wonderful. I think…I think I want to cry tears of joy."

"I promise, Winry, the only tears I'll ever make you cry from now on are tears of joy," Ed swore, raising her hand to his lips so that he could seal his words with a kiss to her palm. Looking at their hands over his shoulder, Winry sighed, a mild tone of disgruntlement reverberating from her throat. "What is it?"

"I just wish we could have a ring for you," she whispered, her eyes falling to her own handcrafted wedding band, admiring it in the moonlight.

"I don't need a ring."

"But I –"

"You've already left your mark on me," he confessed, moving his right hand to rest on her upper thigh. She felt the metal through the sheet, its chill causing a comforting shudder to wrack her body. "This automail has always meant that I belong to you."

"So you've been mine since you were eleven?"

"Longer than that," Ed confessed as he turned to finally face her. His cheeks were still flush from the afterglow, his eyes full of dark electricity. "When we were kids, Al and I used to fight over who would get to marry you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Those days we would come to school really beat up and we never told you why…well, we always fought the hardest when it came to you."

"And why is that?"

"Because I wasn't going to share you, even with Al. I wanted you for myself," Ed confessed smugly, pulling her close and kissing her nose.

"Well, fair's fair, Mr. Alchemist," Winry warned. "I'm not sharing you, either."

They kissed then, mouths open and searching, lips wet and soft. Ed pressed Winry against him, making sure she felt how hard he was. Her encouraging groan was all the permission he needed to tug the sheet from her body and let it float to their feet. He took hold of her hips, about to brace her against the wall, when she pushed insistently at his shoulders and threw him a sultry, half-lidded look.

"I want to try something," she explained, leaning in to kiss his neck, his chest, his belly, until she was on her knees before him, his cock in her hands and her intention clearly shining in her blue eyes.

"Win –"

"I want to," she insisted, and before Ed could argue, her mouth was on him and all protests died to mingle into a shuddering moan on his lips.

Winry took her time, and Ed was not inclined to rush her exploration. She loved how his body went rigid and his hands groped for her hair. He had done so much to make her mind explode and her body writhe, bringing her all the pleasure he had promised, and she wanted to do the same for him. She wanted him to go mindless, to lose all control, to scream her name into the dark, and most of all, she wanted to pull his strings and make him bend to her will.

Soon his body tightened and he growled lowly, vibrating against her, his breath shallow and strained, his body bowing over hers as he came. And when he laid spent in her arms, Winry stroked his hair and kissed his brow, whispering that she loved him until he tugged at her body and pulled her up to look out the window at the sleeping city.

They made love as the dawn broke over Paris, and fell asleep on the floor, curled around each other.

* * *

***

_France_

_20. Oct. 28_

***

Dr. Mauro locked up his clinic and strolled back to his office. It had been a tiring day. A fire caused by a malfunctioning stove had set two houses ablaze, killing a mother and her baby and severely injuring another child. Sadly, the unfortunate burn victim had succumbed to her injuries and died that afternoon, making the senior doctor the messenger of unbearable news to the girl's father. It was the worst part of his work, and the promise of fuzzy comfort that rested at the bottom of the whiskey bottle hidden in the top drawer of his desk was what saw the good doctor locking himself in his dark, boxy office.

Collapsing into his chair, the cushion so worn that stuffing slithered out of several broken seams, Dr. Mauro gave his face a few rough scrubs before seeking out the amber alcohol and a clean glass. He drank two and a half glasses before bothering to notice the pile of mail on his desk. Now feeling limber and relaxed, he reached for the stacks of envelopes, flipping through them quickly to discern which required his immediate attention.

He nearly choked on his liquor when a choppy, scrawling handwriting caught his attention. The chicken scratch could only belong to Unteroffizier Yokidell.

Officer Yoki was a creeping, slithery fellow who, despite his thirteen years of service in the Reichswehr, had never graduated beyond his under officer rank. Being relatively ignored by his superiors, and his growing disdain for the German military fairly well known, Dr. Mauro had taken a chance, contacting a friend of an acquaintance of Yoki's to determine if the sly man would agree to doing a bit of espionage. The price Yoki demanded had been completely unreasonable, but the mystery of the SS officers that had come to his clinic nearly two weeks ago and their connection to the patient they'd called Kimblee had driven the country doctor to distraction.

The patient in question was no help at all. Although Mauro knew he had heard the dark haired SS solider call him Kimblee, the man never answered to that name when addressed by the clinic staff. For the most part, he was unresponsive and stoic, and then, without warning, would lash out violently, scratching at the eyes of his attendants, cursing at the women, and even going so far as to stab a blond nurse through the hand with a scalpel. Now the strange crazed man was strapped to his bed at all times, and for the past week had reverted to an empty shell of a human being, refusing all sustenance. It was a troubling case and a gnawing mystery, and the answers that Yoki may have been able to provide were as precious to the doctor as aspirin. Dr. Mauro wondered what Yoki could have discerned when the only information that could be used were the names Kimblee and Roy, a description of the blond female soldier and a connection with the Schutzstaffel. Still, no matter what flimsy report Yoki could provide, Dr. Mauro was eager to accept it.

He _had_ to know who his mystery patient was before the curiosity killed him!

Gripping his letter opener far too eagerly, he tore into the envelope. Unfolding the paper, the doctor devoured the words on the page as earnestly as he had swallowed his whiskey. The seeping warmth that the liquor had so easily provided, however, drained and stilled in his veins as the doctor absorbed the information. His hands began to shake before he could finish the report and the paper slipped from his fingers and floated to the desk. Eyes wide and unseeing, Dr. Mauro tried to calm himself, but his body was trapped in the grip of horrified tremors as the truth in Officer Yoki's letter attacked him like a shower of bullets.

"This isn't right…" he muttered, gripping the arms of his chair so roughly that his knuckles burned white and his fingers chafed against the wood. "The Hochroter Tod…but he was executed. It can't be!"

"Oh, but it can."

As if he was suddenly turned to stone, Dr. Mauro was stricken as a figure emerged from the long shadow cast by his dominating bookcase in the orange lamplight. Like the phantom that he was, the patient that had consumed the doctor's imagination seemed to materialize out of the darkness. His hair was oily and disheveled, his eyes as black as coal dust and gleaming with deranged joy.

Kimblee smiled as he approached the befuddled doctor, enjoying the play of fear that contorted the old man's face as he came up to the desk and casually sipped from the whiskey bottle, cringing delightfully at the slow burn. Acting as breezily as if they were dear friends, Kimblee glanced down at the damning letter, his expression of blank interest stretching into malicious understanding.

"Y-y-yo-you can't –"

"Gee, doc, you look like you've seen a ghost," Kimblee joked, leaping over the desk and reaching for Dr. Mauro. Spurred by instinct, the doctor pushed back, desperate for distance between himself and the spook born of the shadows. Unfortunately, his chair wheeled into the wall, jostling him and upsetting his perception. Before he could heft himself out of his chair and make an escape, Kimblee had Dr. Mauro pinned, the slender tip of his embossed letter opener jabbing against the loose folds of skin at his throat.

"Zolf Kimblee is dead," Dr. Mauro groaned.

"Not quite."

"I read about it. A firing squad. You were declared dead. You were buried! You should be burning in hell!"

"Funny thing about hell, doctor," Kimblee snorted, "if the devil doesn't like you, he spits you back up."

"How did you escape?"

"I won't bore you with the details of my salvation from death, but I will tell you that your pretty little nurse – Claire, was it? – should have been warned about the potential dangers of loosening a patient's restraints when he appeals to her compassion for food."

"_Should_ have?" Dr. Mauro gasped.

"Ashes to ashes and all that jazz," Kimblee sneered, rolling his eyes as if his confession was entirely too bothersome to even discuss.

"You killed—"

"I thought you'd read all about me, doctor. You should know killing is what I do."

And with those words, delivered with such honest revelry and purpose, Kimblee pierced Dr. Mauro's throat and sliced, the blood spraying on his face like a mist. Dr. Mauro gargled, small pink bubbles collecting in the corners of his mouth. His lips flapped and he tried to speak, but no sound would escape. Leaning forward, Kimble watched with ardent fascination as the life left the doctor. Locking eyes, Kimblee could see the accusation striking out at him from the depths of the doctor's quickly departing soul and he tutted as a mother would to a naughty child.

"Silly man, you should have known. Curiosity killed the cat."

Smiling with patronizing kindness, Kimblee watched as the doctor's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body sagging like a sack of flour in the chair. It didn't take long for the old man to die, and Kimblee didn't bother dignifying his death with a moment of thought. Licking at the bitter blood on his chin, the assassin worked quickly, only slightly encumbered by his injuries. He removed the doctor's clothing before his blood seeped through the long overcoat and sullied the shirt and trousers under it. Changing out of his own scrubs and into the fresher clothes of Dr. Mauro, Kimblee took a second swig of the whiskey before finding the doctor's car keys and wallet. Smirking at the fabulous turn of his luck, Kimblee finally addressed the letter that bore his treacherous secret. Reading over it briskly, a feral snarl tore itself from the assassin's throat as he read over Roy Kluge's name. Crinkling the paper, Kimblee shoved it in his mouth and swallowed the wad whole, his plan already in motion, his spite already a net around his soul.

It had been festering in him for weeks, ever since Kluge had declared him useless. Zolf Kimblee was not a man of great wealth or possession. All he had was his reputation and his pride, and Kluge had dared to take away both. It would be sweet satisfaction when he stole the uranium bomb from under Kluge's nose. He might even kill the haughty commander, or even better, report his little bodyguard to the Schutzstaffel and watch Kluge suffer as she was jailed, interrogated and killed. As he had lain helpless and impotent in the French clinic for the past fortnight, Kimblee was gnawed from the inside out with his obsession to make Kluge renounce his words. Only when he had felt some semblance of strength return to his body – and dammit to hell that he was forced to walk with a limp and damaged left hand! – did Kimblee allow his black nature to seek revenge on those who had wronged him.

It wouldn't be impossible to track down Elric and his whore, but as his body was in a tender condition, Kimblee knew it would be better to wait for the happy couple to frolic to him. Surely they would return to Freiburg and rendezvous with that traitor, Lang. If his dates were correct, the director would still be in Freiburg for another two days before his film permits expired and he would return to Berlin. Kimblee was certain that if he tracked Lang, Elric's merry band would resurface.

Because if he wanted to show Kluge his mistake in insulting him, Kimblee needed the uranium bomb, and if he wanted the bomb then he needed Elric.

And in order to get Elric, Kimblee needed the woman.

* * *

_I want to apologize to everyone for taking so long to get this latest chapter finished. I must confess that, between my surgery, going back to school and moving, my inspiration also left me and I hadn't touched a single creative writing project for almost two months. However, I am back in the saddle and I'm ready to get _Don't Forget_ finished before too long. I've always known how I wanted it to end, it was just a matter of getting the words to come out right. So, thanks for being patient, or not-so-patient but understanding, with me._

_Here are some notes to my anonymous reviewers:_

**MC**: _Thanks! Hope I didn't let you down with this latest chapter, and sorry the update took FOREVER!_

**Shingmei**: _Hi! Glad you liked the AlxNoa detour. Don't worry, I can promise right now that neither of them will die, but as for when they'll work out their communication constipation…well, that's for a future chapter to tell. And I'm so thrilled you liked Izumi's appearance. It seems most readers did, and that just made my month. I'm doing very well, thanks, and I hope you enjoyed the lemon. It was pretty citrusy, wasn't it? _

**roseofsharon28**: _Thanks so much! The surgery went very well and I hope you've liked this last chapter. _

**Athyra**: _Fear not, things will work out with Al and his beloved…eventually…maybe…not in the next chapter though. Thanks so much for leaving a review. Hope you liked this latest chapter as well!_

**gorelore**: _Glad you liked Izumi. She's a ball to write. Hope you've liked this latest chapter as well._

**Edwardsslave4live**: _Thanks so much for the support. And of course you can be a great writer, just practice, practice, practice, and take the risks of showing your work to others for critique and criticism. Hope the rest of this fic will continue to play with your heartstrings!_

**FMA-Freak**: _I can totally sympathize with your post-Conqueror of Shamballa feelings. That's why I started writing this fic. At least with the manga, and Brotherhood, I think we'll be in for a more satisfying EdxWinry conclusion. Thanks very much for your review!_

**whoyouwannabeisme**: _Fear not, I am continuing this story. Life just happened to take me for one hell of a ride these last few months, and I lost my writing bug for a while. However, I am happy to say that I am once again fully infected and am working to complete this work very soon. Thanks for leaving me your thoughts, I really appreciate them! Cheers!_

**tanya**: _Thanks! I'm happy you're enjoying the fic and I'm sorry it took so long to get the next update posted. Hope you enjoyed it!_

_Once again, thanks for reading. Please, leave me a review and let me know your thoughts. No flames, please and thank you!_

_Cheers!_

**Giant Nickel**


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